The Vodola Chronicles
by Highwing
Summary: A castaway vixen on a desert island, filled with dangers and intrigue. However will she survive?
1. Chapter 1

As I stated in the comments section for my short story "The Answer," I used my vixen Vodola from that fic as my character for the very first ROC: Survivor RP contest. I have decided to post all my Vodola installments from ROC:S, Round One here for the (hopeful) enjoyment of all. It won't be the entire story, of course, since it started out with nine contributing writers that got winnowed down to three by the end, but since I was the winner of ROCS1, these segments span from almost the very beginning of the story to the Epilogue. Together, they tell an almost-coherent tale. Yes, there will be many gaps, but you can probably fill in a lot of them from the context of my own posts, especially as it gets closer to the end where there were fewer contestants participating.

This opening segment is the very first scene I wrote for the game, and ended up not being used, since Athi Retta's post before mine negated some of what was in it. So here is my aborted Scene One from ROC:S1 ...

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Vodola the vixen paced along the upper beach, high above the tideline, apart from her fellow castaways. Her mind was in a turmoil. She had to figure things out, and quickly. The sand beneath her paws, shifting with every step and forcing its way between her toes, mirrored the precarious situation they were all in. Vodola had never walked upon sand before today, not even while boarding their ill-fated vessel when she'd made sure to stay on the pier, and it was not a sensation she much liked. She was trained as a fighter, among other things, and in uncertain circumstances a fighter must always keep firm footing beneath her. That was impossible to do with this treacherous and unsteady terrain ... and might prove equally impossible with the other eight creatures who now shared this island with her.

And a motley crew they were - four of the guards and crew, and four of the prisoners they'd been transporting, now free of their chains. Potential mortal enemies, with nothing to stop them from tearing each other apart except common sense and their own restraint ... neither of which Vodola trusted to last indefinitely. There was too much bad blood here, and the slightest misstep could unleash violence that could very well doom them all.

Before their voyage had been interrupted, Vodola had spent time with both crew and prisoners. She was a traveler, on a journey of personal enlightenment, so nobeast thought it strange that she would converse with members of both camps. The prisoners - as dangerous and coldhearted a group as was likely to be found anywhere - welcomed her visits with them, glad for anybeast to talk to, glad also that she listened to their stories without scorn or judgment. She didn't think she'd actually befriended any of them, but she had established enough of a rapport so that she didn't think they would try to kill her. At least not right away.

The badger worried her, though. Of all the prisoners, the badger was the one against whom Vodola would have no chance in any kind of a fight. Vodola's experience with woodlanders was limited, and she'd never met a badger before. But she'd heard all the stories about them ... about the Bloodwrath. Badgers were generally goodbeasts, but this one was a glaring exception. Would a badger given to evil ways still be susceptible to the Bloodwrath? Did female badgers experience the Bloodwrath at all? If so, then they might all be in mortal danger, for a badger in the grip of the Bloodwrath was nearly unstoppable (or so the stories said) and could well slaughter them all with barely a second thought. The top priority now must be to avoid raising the ire of the badger, at all costs.

And after that, what? Survival, of course. What was the point of keeping the peace between them if they all died anyway? They would need food, water, probably shelter ... fire might be helpful too. But the others were already discussing these matters, down near the water's edge. Vodola was focused more upon the subtle things that less discipined minds might miss - the dynamics of the personalities involved here. She doubted any of the others were as qualified as she was to recognize this aspect of their plight, or to do anything about it. So it was up to her.

And in more ways than one. Four goodbeasts, four criminals - and her. She was the unknown factor, the one who could tip the balance either way if alliances were to emerge. The otters and the weasel and the older vixen might not trust her entirely, but they would not actively scheme against her, so they would not be any trouble. And the other four might see her as too valuable to risk alienating her; if they could woo her to their side, then they would have the majority, and that was not something they would discard casually.

So she would play both ends against the middle - strive to prove herself as trustworthy and dependable to the four goodbeasts without throwing in her lot with them entirely, while holding out to the four criminals the hope that she might prove a valuable ally. She was the only one of the nine who was in any position to attempt such a balancing act, and it might just be the thing that kept them from killing each other. At least she hoped so.

Vodola glanced inland. This was a big island, that much was clear from the rocky crags rising up above the shoreline trees. That sharp-edged mountain peak was at least a day's march away, and the summit was wreathed in mist. The vixen tore her gaze away after a few moments, when the vague stirrings of vertigo dizzied her head; she was not good with heights, never had been. Whatever the days ahead held in store for them, hopefully it would not involve a climb up onto perilous slopes. That peak did not look at all inviting.

To help keep her mind on her situation, Vodola took another personal inventory. Her habit was still damp from the swim ashore, and would probably need another full day to dry out completely, even in this tropical heat. That green garment - so much like those worn by Redwall novices - had caused more than one raised eyebrow on board the ship. Unfortunately, she'd lost her spare habit in the wreck. But she hadn't lost the matched pair of shortswords strapped to each of her legs. She'd tried to keep those weapons hidden from everybeast - the long robes certainly helped in that regard, even if it made swimming awkward - and was fairly certain that none of the others suspected she was so armed. But if she was forced to use the blades to defend herself, they'd not stay a secret for long. Well, she'd keep them hidden for as long as she could, and hope for the best ...

The only other possession she'd salvaged was the heavily-bound volume that she always carried in her inside pocket. It was more precious to her than any sword, more valuable to her than any garment, and the one thing she could not have stood to lose. The book had gotten wet too, but thankfully the ink had not run; the author of this journal had put more thought into it than to use ink that would wash away in water. It too would dry out, in time, and be none the worse for wear.

Vodola became aware that the others were calling for her, waving for her to rejoin them down by the waterline. Twitching her bushy tail and shaking the hem of her habit to free them of the annoying clinging sand grains, she strode toward them. This day at the beach was not going to be any day at the beach


	2. Chapter 2

And here is the first actual post I made for ROC:S1. Astute readers will notice that some passages from my first abortive scene carried over unchanged, while the overall scenario was rewritten to conform with Athi's first post. Please note that the characters of Levet, Ciarnait Conmara (whose name I constantly misspelled during the game), Athi Retta, Orlic Ravenwing, Tundra Wildfire, Vinklinar Vulturetooth, Cayenne Doubletree and Pyr Teranight are copyright their respective authors, whoever they may have been. Only Vodola and these particular scenes that follow are mine.

So, with that out of the way ... happy reading!

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"The Vixen and the Badger"

Vodola the vixen awoke suddenly, with a start. Her seasons of training had not prepared her for the kind of ordeal she'd just endured, but that same training kicked in now. Awakening in a strange place, uncertain whether she was in the presence of friends or foes, she reflexively jerked upright to a sitting position, paws at the ready to draw her weapons as she squinted and blinked in the bright sunshine.

Memories came flooding back quickly as she took in the wreckage and bodies covering the beach all around her. The ship ... the storm ... and now ...

She was not the only survivor. One other beast stood near her, studying her with appraising eyes. It was the big female badger from the brig. What was her name? Vodola couldn't remember. Thoughts were swimming in her head in a jumble of confusion. She had to concentrate. She had to focus, just as she'd always been taught to do in a crisis situation.

The badger ambled over to her. Vodola tensed herself for confrontation, but the bigger creature offered a paw, the barest hint of a smile on her face. "Need a paw? Or are you gonna laze about there all day?"

Vodola heaved an inward sigh of relief, although she kept her expression level. Accepting the massive paw that positively dwarfed her own, she found herself being wrenched to her footpaws by the awesome strength of the giant beast. "Thank you," she said, keeping her voice pleasant.

During their voyage, Vodola had spent time with both crew and prisoners. She was a traveler, on a journey of personal enlightenment, so nobeast thought it strange that she would converse with members of both camps. The prisoners had welcomed her visits with them, glad for anybeast to talk to, glad also that she listened to their stories without scorn or judgment. She didn't think she'd actually befriended any of them, but she had established enough of a rapport so that she didn't think any of them would try to kill her. At least not right away.

This badger worried her, though. Of all the prisoners, the badger was the one against whom Vodola would have no chance in any kind of a fight. Vodola's experience with woodlanders was limited, and she'd never met a badger before. But she'd heard all the stories about them ... about the Bloodwrath. Did female badgers experience the Bloodwrath? The top priority now must be to avoid raising the ire of this creature, at all costs.

The first thing Vodola noticed upon getting to her feet was a general, all-around soreness, like she often had after a long session of paw-to-paw combat training. The second thing she noticed was the feel of the sun-dried sand beneath her paws, shifting even as she shifted and forcing itself up between her toes. Vodola had never walked upon sand before today - even while boarding their ill-fated vessel, she'd made sure to stay on the pier - and it was not a sensation she much liked. She was trained as a fighter, among other things, and in uncertain circumstances a fighter must always keep firm footing beneath her. That was impossible to do with this treacherous and unsteady terrain.

She also saw that the stuff clung annoyingly to her damp fur and wet habit; the sun may have dried the sand around her, but her most personal environs would remain moist for some time. She thrashed her tail and shook the hem of her habit to try to free them of some of the pesky grains.

The badger watched her curiously. "Well, you seem to've come out of this better than me, if you're worried about sand sticking to you. Um, are those blades you've got strapped to your legs under your robes?"

Vodola froze. She'd tried to keep her matched pair of shortswords concealed from everybeast aboard; a secret weapon wasn't secret if everybeast knew about it, was it? Her green habit - the same kind worn by Redwall novices, which had raised more than one eyebrow during her journeying - had served very well to hide her blades. But now that garment was wet and clingy, and didn't obey her as it normally did. She'd foolishly dropped her guard, and now this badger knew she was armed.

Vodola recovered with what she hoped was convincing nonchalance. "Of course I'm armed," she shrugged. "Only an unwise beast would travel abroad without means to defend itself."

The badger smirked. "Don't worry - I'll keep your secret, if that's what you want. You didn't look down your snout at me when you came to visit us in the brig. I remember things like that."

Vodola smiled, more genuinely this time. Perhaps there were worse creatures she could have been shipwrecked with. She dug around in her inner pockets, and produced the other possession besides her shortswords that she'd have been loathe to lose: the heavily-bound volume that she carried close to her at all times. Flipping it open, she saw that it too had gotten wet through and through, but thankfully the ink had not run; the author of this journal had put more thought into it than to use ink that would wash away in water. It too would dry out, in time, and be none the worse for wear.

"What's that?" the badger inquired.

"Uh ... just my journal," she said quickly, snapping it shut and replacing it within her habit pocket.

"Whatever. Shall we see if anybeast else is alive?"

Vodola nodded, and fell into step behind the badger as they made their way toward the still form of a mouse who'd been one of the crew. As she walked, the vixen glanced inland.

If this was an island, it was a big one, that much was clear from the rocky crags rising up above the shoreline trees. That sharp-edged mountain peak was at least a day's march away, and the summit was wreathed in mist. The vixen tore her gaze away after a few moments, when the vague stirrings of vertigo dizzied her head; she was not good with heights, never had been. Whatever the days ahead held in store for them, hopefully it would not involve a climb up onto perilous slopes. That peak did not look at all inviting.

The mouse was quite dead. "No life left in this one," the badger grunted, and moved on. "Let's see about that ferret over there ... "

Vodola stayed at the badger's side, her mind in a turmoil. Whatever happened now would depend on whether there were any other survivors, and who those survivors were. There had been enough bad blood on that ship to lead to more violence here. They may have survived the wreck, but the danger was hardly past


	3. Chapter 3

(Author's Note: Imagine my surprise, back when I was comparing what I have on my hard drive with what was posted on the ROC:S1 story board, when I discovered that this scene was nowhere to be found in my records! Turns out I posted this from my job directly onto the Cgiforme Board, because I had an idea that simply wouldn't wait until I got home. That's why this is so short ... and also why I kinda sorta broke the rules and posted twice in one day, with only one other author putting something up between my two Vodola posts. Oh, well ... )

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"Ideas"

"I have a better idea," Vodola said to Tundra. "Can both of you otters swim all right?"

Cayanne and Tundra quickly consulted, then both nodded.

Vodola pointed seaward. "We shouldn't have to worry about food, since we've got the biggest larder in creation right beside us. Look for shrimp, clams, crabs, bottom fish ... anything you can grab up quickly without needing a special net or spear."

"I'm an ol' riverdog, not a proper sea otter," said Tundra. "Never been swimmin' in th' main before."

"Me too," echoed Cayenne.

"Water's still water," insisted Vodola. "Once you get used to the salt against your eyes, you should be able to forage up enough to feed us for the day. Probably won't even have to leave the shallows."

The two otters looked at each other uncertainly, mulling over the vixen's proposal.

"That's fine for food, if it works," rumbled Athi Retta, "but water's the most important thing we need now."

Vodola pointed to one of the palm trees along the upper beach. "See those hairy brown balls up in the treetops? I've read they contain a juice of sorts. They're hard to crack open, but with a strong badger like you to help us, we should be able to do something with them."

"How do you know all this?" inquired Pyr.

"I read a lot. You should try it some time - you never know what you might pick up that'll come in useful.


	4. Chapter 4

(Author's Note: And this is why I was in such a hurry to post the previous scene from my job. I'd actually drafted this scene the night before, but not had a chance to post it; when I checked on the progress of the story the following afternoon, I found that this scene was already partly contradicted by what some of the others had written, and I wanted to be able to rescue as many of these ideas for actual usage as I could. [For me, that was always the most frustrating part of doing ROC:S.] So here now, another behind-the-scenes, unused Vodola excerpt from ROC:S1 ... )

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As everybeast got ready to get to sleep, Vodola found a solitary rock seat on the outskirts of the group and took a few minutes to reflect upon the events of the day.

They were in good shape, all things considered. At least for the moment. While the two otters had taken to the water and rounded up a decent haul of shellfish, Athi Retta had "convinced" Levet and Vinklinar to climb one of the scattered palm trees to knock down a few cocoanuts. A steel grate hatchway from the wreckage made a good grill on which to cook the seafood, while a heavy iron nail spike could be used by the big badger, along with a rock hammer, to punch holes in the cocoanuts. About half the cocoanuts split in two when this was tried, spilling their liquid contents onto the sand, but the other half took a clean penetration, and the castaways were able to drink from them. Overcooked shellfish and cocoanut milk was not a diet they could live on indefinitely, but for their first day stranded on this island, it had held off starvation nicely.

Vodola sat on the outer perimeter of the creatures gathered around the campfire. For now, she wanted to distance herself from the others as she mulled things over. She'd really had no choice but to play an active role in rounding up all the survivors, much as she would have liked to remain by herself, observing her fellow castaways from a safe remove. Of course, it had taken a little work just to figure out who was still alive among the wreckage and bodies, and interaction with her newfound companions had been unavoidable. She couldn't help but feel she'd said or done a few things that day which were out of character for her. Normally she didn't care what others thought of her, and this should be even more true in an emergency situation like this. But Vodola was painfully aware that these seven beasts might be her only companions for quite some time to come, and she didn't want them to think badly of her, nor to see right through to her hidden depths. She had secrets beyond the two rapiers strapped to her legs (a secret already revealed to Athi Retta the badger, much to her chagrin) and didn't want to reveal too much about herself until she'd had the chance to take a better measure of these others. Vodola was a beast who prefered to watch and listen, to figure out all the angles to a particular situation before embarking on any course of action.

She might have wished for a few more woodlanders, and a few less of the so-called vermin species. While Vodola's experience with traditional "goodbeasts" was limited, what she'd studied about them and the few she'd gotten to know on her travels had shown her that woodlanders were usually open and honest, without layers of deception to unravel. The two otters here fit that description, although the young weasel seemed to act like a goodbeast as well, genuine and without any hidden agenda. She'd observed on the "Starsong" that young Vinklinar was a hard worker, and they might all have to become hard workers if they wanted to survive this experience. The same was true of that other vixen, Orlic Ravenwing - a fox who seemed to have adopted woodlander's ways. Those four did not worry her, at least as far as any possible threat to herself was concerned.

Neither did the badger, for that matter. Athi Retta had kept her promise of that morning, not to tell anybeast else about Vodola's hidden swords. Vodola couldn't help but feel some kind of bond had formed between them, however tenuous. She was still wary of the badger's strength and temper, and would strive to remain on Athi's good side. But Athi, despite having been a prisoner, did not strike Vodola as the kind of corrupted, cold-hearted villain one would expect to find on a prison ship. She had integrity to go along with her temper, even if she had displayed a tendency to think of herself above others. Vodola wondered anew, as she had several times in the past, what Athi had done to become a prisoner. She would have to try to find out the badger's story; it might be something she could use to her advantage.

That left the two ferrets, and they were another story altogether. Levet was the kind of vermin that Vodola's academy was trying to replace: uneducated, dim-witted, quick-tempered, selfish and uncouth - the classic example of a low-ranking hordebeast or deckpaw on a corsair ship. In the old days, Levet would be lucky to live half his normal measure of seasons, and would more than likely have met a violent end, probably through the treachery of his "friends" or his own treachery gone wrong. Or in a battle with goodbeasts, of which Levet was most definitely not one. In some respects, getting stranded on this island might prove the best thing that could have happened to Levet; if they could find a dependable supply of food and water, he could dwell here for a long time in peace, bothering nobeast. Something told Vodola that Levet wouldn't have much of anything to go back to, even if he could escape from this island.

And then there was Cairnait Conmara. If anybeast here was going to cause trouble, it would be that one. Vodola considered herself a decent judge of character, and Cairnait failed the test. The bone bracelets alone would have been enough to pursuade the perceptive vixen; Vodola had known several beasts in her life who wore the bones of other creatures as ornaments, and every one had been rotten to the core ... or at the very least dangerous. Cairnait would be the one to keep an eye on, especially if she tried to form any kind of alliance with Levet, or even Athi - not that Vodola considered it very likely that the badger would engage in any kind of plotting or such. Athi Retta was too open and forthright in her manner for that, besides which Vodola sensed that Athi didn't care for Cairnait any more that Vodola did.

All things considered, it could have been much worse. One or two of the more troublesome prisoners thrown into the mix would have made the situation far more explosive, as would some of the more vehement vermin-hating crewbeasts and guards. While this was not the ideal group of creatures Vodola would have chosen to be stranded on an island with, it was a group that might very well be able to put aside their differences and pull together in order to survive.

At least Vodola hoped so.


	5. Chapter 5

(Author's Note: Again, you'll see how some of the elements from the previous, unused scene made their way into my next published post of the game, salvaged in much the same way as what the castaways needed was scavenged from the ill-fated Starsong!)

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"The Mystery of the Book Revealed"

Cayenne and Tundra agreed at last to go fishing in the sea, and returned with pawfuls of shellfish and a few of the smaller, less dangerous crabs. A steel grate hatchway salvaged from the wreckage by Cairnait and Levet made a good grill on which to cook the seafood, and a fire was quickly started on the beach. The swim seemed to have done the younger otter some good; Cayenne could now see out of both eyes, and the swelling was noticeably less.

Athi Retta, meanwhile, had "convinced" Vinklinar to climb one of the scattered palm trees to knock down a few cocoanuts. Vodola had begged off joining the young weasel in this chore, since she was not a good climber (if only they knew!), and Orlic's wound was still too raw for such strenuous activity. A heavy iron nail spike, pulled from a shattered fragment of the hull, was perfect for Athi to use, along with a rock hammer, to punch holes in the cocoanuts. About half of the hard-shelled tropical fruits split in two when this was tried, spilling their liquid contents onto the sand, but the other half took a clean penetration, and the castaways were able to drink from them. Overcooked shellfish and cocoanut milk was not a diet they could live on indefinitely, but for their first meal in over a day, it would keep them from starving. Yes, they had the food from the Starsong that had been reclaimed from the beach, but the nine of them would go through that quickly, and they'd have to learn sooner or later how to be self-sufficient.

As their simple lunch was winding down, Vodola saw Pyr sitting with Vinklinar and Orlic on a fallen tree, and ambled over to join them. Pyr apparently had formed some unjustified suspicions about her fellow vixen, and Vodola wanted to straighten things out before any misunderstandings could grow more tangled. She settled herself on the horizontal trunk between Pyr and Vinklinar, and nonchalantly pulled out the heavily-bound book from her inner pocket.

Pyr almost gasped - the reaction Vodola had anticipated. If Pyr suspected there was some plot behind the wreck of the Starsong, and that Vodola and her precious volume were somehow a part of that conspiracy, Vodola would straighten her tail on that right now. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, the young vixen began flipping through the pages.

Vinklinar was curious. "What's that?" he inquired, craning his neck to view the pages; he knew how to read, a little. "I've never seen writing like that before ... "

"It's my journal," Vodola replied. "I brought it with me from my school. It's very important to me." All true; she could not be caught in a lie about any of that.

"Can I see?" Pyr asked, her tone conveying that she was only asking as a formality; she was already reaching to take volume from Vodola.

"Sure," Vodola smiled, "but be careful. As I said, it means a lot to me."

Pyr looked at the open page before her, tried to read a passage:

O^OX+-O^V~vO-/-UI:x/`o+oV~-~OIo, /\oOo|`~`^V^, vo:O^`/..\`^V,+-/Oov\/^Oo``, xXo:], lIloV`+vvo~~+../\, ooVv\:/oII`+`, ..vvO+o-`^VoI ...

Pyr wrinkled her snout in disgust. "It's gibberish!"

"Only if you don't know the language," Vodola slyly smirked, taking back her journal from the disarmed Pyr. "It's used by some of the foxes at my school. For when you write things that you don't want just anybeast to see."

"Oh? Read us some of it," Pyr challenged.

Vodola closed the book and replaced it in her habit pocket. "It's personal."

"That's really neat," said Vinklinar admiringly. "Having a special language all your own. I barely know how to read and write in just one language ... "

Vodola sensed that her goal had been accomplished here. How would these creatures react if they knew that her journal was actually her poisoner's pawbook, filled with recipes on how to derive poisons from virtually every herb and plant found in Mossflower, Southsward, the Northlands and both coasts, and how to administer them to your victims? Vodola was trained as a poisoner, but she had never had occasion to practice her craft. And it didn't look like she'd be doing so anytime soon, since this island contained plants wholly unfamiliar to her. So she was no threat to her fellow castaways ... at least not as far as poisoning them.

But the book WAS precious to her. Only a pawful of copies existed, and she had been entrusted with one of them to take with her on her season-long sabbatical of journeying. If she returned without it, she would be punished by her instructors, and being stranded on a desert island would be no excuse. At least she didn't have to worry about anybeast here deciphering it; only the foxes at Maulseed Academy could understand that foxscript, since they had invented it.

Besides, there was nobeast here she really wanted to poison, even if she were able to. The twin blades hidden beneath her robes - she was fairly sure Athi was the only one who knew about those yet - would be more than adequate to handle any challenge to her personal safety.

"Now then," Vodola leveled her gaze at her fellow vixen, "Pyr was telling me something very interesting last night. Pyr, would you care to share your theories about the wreck of the Starsong with Orlic and Vinklinar?


	6. Chapter 6

"Dark Thoughts"

For the first time in her young life, Vodola was seriously considering killing another creature.

She sat alone on the fallen palm tree, apart from the other four as the lingering tropical twilight faded. Athi, Vinklinar and Tundra had headed into the interior of the island to search for the wayward Cayenne. Vodola didn't care what happened to the young otter now; Cayenne had laughed when her precious poisoner's book had gone up in flames. She'd thought it was great fun. Well, damn her, even if she was one of the only two fisherbeasts they had. Vodola wouldn't shed a tear if that otter never came back.

She was trying not to shed any tears at all, but it wasn't easy. Maulseed Academy was the only home she had, and she would probably be kicked out for the loss of the rare volume - after she was accordingly whipped or beaten, and that punishment might be enough to send her to the infirmary for days. Provided they didn't throw her out for her to heal or die on her own.

Vodola's paw kept straying involuntarily to the scorched patch on her habit as she glared at the ferret responsible for her life's sudden downturn. Levet labored unskillfully at the shelter Athi had started, oblivious to the dreams he had wrecked. Yesterday she'd harbored no murderous thoughts, no homicidal contemplations. Quite the opposite; her mind had been occupied with the problem of keeping these castaways from each other's throats so that they might all have a better chance at survival. Now those concerns were the furthest thing from her mind.

Why did Levet deserve to live? Even if he could escape from this island, where would he go then, and what mischief would he cause? Levet was the kind of vermin that Vodola's academy was trying to replace: uneducated, dim-witted, quick-tempered, selfish and uncouth - the classic example of a low-ranking hordebeast or deckpaw on a corsair ship. Creatures like him did not live to a ripe old age, especially not when they surrounded themselves with similarly treacherous and stupid cronies. In some ways, getting stranded on this island might have been the best thing that could have happened to Levet. But now that he'd caused Vodola to lose her poisoner's manual, it might also be the worst thing that could have happened to him ...

And revenge was not the only reason Vodola might have for slaying Levet. The vixen's acid gaze went to the other ferret. Cairnait Conmara was helping to erect the shelter, putting on a show of toiling harder than she actually was. So outwardly elegant, that one, so high and mighty. If anybeast here was going to cause trouble, it would be that one. Vodola considered herself a decent judge of character, and Cairnait failed the test. The bone bracelets alone would have been enough to persuade the perceptive vixen; Vodola had known several beasts in her life who wore the bones of other creatures as ornaments, and every one had been rotten to the core ... or at the very least dangerous. If Cairnait fell to plotting against the rest of them - and plotting came so easily to those of her ilk - then she would seek to recruit a henchbeast so as not to dirty her own paws any more than she had to. Levet was the only obvious candidate for that ... so killing him now would defang Cairnait as well.

Taking a break from helping with the shelter, Orlic Ravenwing wandered over to where Vodola sat. "Athi wanted all of us to work on the shelter while she was gone." The older vixen's tone was companionly.

"Athi can go to hell," Vodola spat. "Besides, Pyr's not doing any work."

"Pyr's still got a wounded ankle," Orlic pointed out. "For that matter, my arm isn't fully back to normal yet, but you don't see me shirking my responsibility. I might excuse you if you were keeping watch for any of these new dangers we've heard about, but the only thing you seem to be watching is Levet."

Vodola glowered, saying nothing.

"Was that book really so important to you?"

"It belonged to my school," Vodola burst out, "and I will be punished and most likely expelled for losing it. I have nowhere else to go. And that ferret - " she could not even bring herself to speak Levet's name - "is to blame!"

"Right now, I'd say you have far more immediate concerns than what your schoolmasters will say about that book. You may never even see your school again."

"It was entrusted to me," Vodola stubbornly persisted. "When it was destroyed, a little piece of me was destroyed."

"I'm sorry. I don't think any of us realized what it meant to you." Orlic sat down on the tree alongside Vodola. "Is that why you wear a habit, because of your school? Tundra thought you might have stolen it from a Redwaller."

"My academy is a lot like Redwall. Although I suspect the punishments for misbehavior there are a lot harsher than anything those mice give out." Vodola wasn't about to tell Orlic that Maulseed Academy's whole purpose was to turn out warriors, fighters, assassins, generals, spies and poisoners ... who might someday be able to conquer Redwall. Maulseed's existence was a closely guarded secret, and Vodola had been given special leave to take her sabbatical. She was sworn to silence about her school.

"I'm a vixen who has adopted the ways of woodlanders and goodbeasts," said Orlic. "If you cannot go back to your school, there are other things you can do with your life. If we ever get off this island, perhaps you and I could travel the lands together as companions. Long journeys can be lonesome sometimes."

Vodola was still too full of venom to be moved by the older fox's sincere offer. "If we ever get off this island ... I'll think about it."

"Please do. And on an unrelated note ... just what were you going to say this afternoon about Pyr and the shipwreck?"

"Ask her yourself. I already know what she told me - I'll be interested to hear what she tells you."

"I will." Orlic stood to go. "And by the way, if you're thinking about killing Levet, my advice is ... don't. Right now the others are feeling some sympathy for you, although you'll wear that out pretty soon if you keep moping about and don't lend a paw. But if you kill Levet, some of the others might see you as dangerous and feel justified in killing you as a precaution. Let it go, Vodola. For your sake, if nobeast else's.


	7. Chapter 7

"Don't Judge a Book By Its Cover"

At first Vodola couldn't understand how Levet could have swiped her poisoner's pawbook. She'd been reading it, showing it around to Vinklinar and Pyr just moments before it had burned. Levet would have to have taken it from her practically as she was falling into the fire. She very much doubted the buffoon of a ferret was anywhere near that good a pickpocket.

But even if he were, it didn't make sense. She'd pulled the volume out of her flaming pocket, and watched in horror as it burned in her paw, right under her snout. It had been her own book, she was sure of it. The distinctive binding, the heft of its weight - that was no mere substitute journal that had been foisted off on her.

So what was this that Levet had just given to her?

Vodola sat away from the others, wanting to be alone while she puzzled out this mystery. Carefully inspecting several pages at random, she could see that it was indeed a poisoner's pawbook, written in the same foxscript as the manual she'd brought with her from Maulseed.

But it was not hers. The arrangement of the text was slightly different, and the covers and binding were of a subtly different consistency. It could easily have been the work of the same creature who'd produced her now-burned volume, but it was clearly a different copy.

She sat staring out to sea, her thoughts doing somersaults. Where in hellsteeth had Levet gotten it? There were only two possible explanations: either it had been part of the cargo that the ferret had pilfered, either during the voyage or from the beach-strewn wreckage - which begged the question, why was a Maulseed Academy's foxscript poisoner's book being shipped on the Starsong? - or else Levet really _had_ pickpocketed it ... not from Vodola, but from one of the other passengers.

How could that be? Vodola may only have been a student at Maulseed, but she did know just about everybeast there, from the Director himself all the way down to the newest recruits. Maulseed Academy was less than a generation old; it wasn't like there were graduates of the school wandering all over the lands. Unless the academy had dispatched somebeast else to shadow Vodola, to help her out in times of need or, more likely, to make sure she didn't spill any of the school's secrets. If that was the explanation, had that shadow been killed in the wreck ... or were they still alive on this island?

It could only be Pyr or Orlic; nobeast but a fox would carry a book like this. And no Maulseed fox would easily allow its precious manual to be stolen by a clumsy oaf like Levet. So either Vodola's unseen guardian had allowed Levet to take the book so he could pass it along to the despondent vixen, or else book and owner had been separated during the wreck. In which case Vodola now possessed something that the other might be looking to get back.

Vodola slipped the book into one of her unsinged inner pockets and crossed the sands to where Levet sat. Cairnait lounged nearby; Vodola ignored her. "What you gave me just now - where did you get it?"

"I told ya," the ferret replied. "I got it jus' like I told ya."

Vodola could see in his eyes that he was lying. "It's not mine. It's a different one. I can tell."

"What, pray tell, are we talking about?" Cairnait inquired casually.

"Stay out of this," Vodola snapped at her. "Tell me where you got it, Levet, if you know what's good for you."

Levet reclined, clasping his paws behind his head and smiling smugly. "Oh, I knows what's good fer me, I does. That's why I did what I did."

Vodola decided not to press the matter, not with the sinister female ferret as a witness. "We'll finish this conversation later," she said, stomping off to join Pyr and Orlic. Maybe one of them would tip their paw to her about this, intentionally or not. Otherwise, Vodola was faced with another mystery to unravel


	8. Chapter 8

"The Inner Eye Opens"

Vodola had found out something about herself that she'd never known before.

When the enormous reptile had charged the three of them, and Orlic had (through her own carelessness) narrowly escaped harm, Vodola had found her paws straying toward her hidden swords, uncaring whether her secret weaponry was revealed to the other two vixens. But it went far beyond that; she had actually been tensing herself to join the fray, rather than retreat in safety to let the others fend for themselves. She knew - there was no doubt of it in her mind - that she would have placed herself in harm's way for the sake of her companions.

It was a startling revelation. All her training at Maulseed had been theoretical, even the physical combat exercises. She knew how to fight, how to defend herself, how to kill in a myriad of ways ... all as taught to her, never in actual practice. And in her journeys throughout the lands thus far this season, she'd kept to herself and not formed ties to anybeast. But the things that really matter in a crisis - courage, confidence, concentration - had never been tested outside of school. Until now.

Vodola had always thought of herself as crafty, not brave. Perceptive, manipulative perhaps ... and the last one who would jump into a battle if she didn't have to. Now she saw herself in a new light. She knew that the warrior's skills she'd been accumulating for seasons were so deeply ingrained that they would come to her automatically when she needed them, and not fail her. And that left the reasoning part of her mind free to weigh things like ... well, friendship and loyalty. Things she'd never really thought about before in connection with her lethal skills. She was being groomed as an assassin and poisoner in so matter-of-fact a manner, she'd never thought very long or hard about what she would ultimately do with those talents. Put them at the service of a warlord who might someday be able to defeat Redwall, certainly. But that purpose had been held out to all the students at Maulseed for so long, it had become something taken for granted, never questioned.

Vodola questioned it now. What if that hoped-for warlord never materialized? What if she devoted all her life to mastering these arts of death and suffering, and never found any purpose worthy of her devotion? Would she just spend the rest of her seasons going about poisoning and assassinating creatures for her own gain? No, that did not seem right. Something about the very idea offended her in a way that it never had before. Whom would she kill? Whom would she poison? And for what reason, if not for some greater cause that would justify her actions?

This was all very unsettling for the young vixen. But she took solace in one thing: that she could act as she had in the defense of her companions here. She had friends back at Maulseed, classmates she would feel confident marching shoulder-to-shoulder into battle with. Could she feel the same way about these strangers she'd only known for a few days? Apparently she could. One of her teachers, Proctor Erkan, always told his students to heed dreams and intuition. And what could be a clearer sign to her than the way she'd acted when the monster attacked them? Her lot was now bound up inextricably with her fellow castaways, and that realization had been driven home to her with a clarity that was almost painful. She couldn't help it if some of the others plotted and schemed against her; from now on, she would act for the good of everybeast here. Their survival probably depended on it.

Her desire to kill Levet - at least over something as trivial and personal as burning her book - was almost completely gone. She still despised him for his shortcomings, and would not hesitate to slay him if his actions threatened the rest of them. But it would take something pretty flagrant to spur her to such an act now. Besides, there was the matter of that second book, which would ease her situation considerably if she ever made it back to Maulseed, but still presented her with a mystery that overrode any feud she had with the ferret. She might never solve that particular mystery, but she would try.

As the three of them trekked through the dank woods to try to locate Athi, Vinklinar and Tundra, Vodola drew alongside Pyr. "Just to let you know, when I was watching you prepare that poison for the monster ... I know a recipe for those herbs that will make it twice as lethal. I can show you when we get back if you want."

Pyr arched an eyebrow. "What do _you_ know about poisons?"

"A thing or two, and let's just leave it at that, okay? I learned a lot about a lot of things at my school ... and I'm beginning to realize I'd better share it all with the rest of you, if we're all going to come out of this alive."

"Assuming we all still are," put in Orlic. "We don't know what happened to Cayenne yet. I hope she's all right."

"Let's concentrate on finding the other three first," said Pyr. "Although if we don't catch up with them soon, I vote we head back to the beach. We won't do anybeast any good if we get lost ourselves."

Orlic and Vodola agreed, and they renewed their focus on the tracks of Athi, Vinklinar and Tundra, leading off into unknown territory.


	9. Chapter 9

"Attack!"

(Author's Note: Now this gets a little strange. I discovered upon comparison that the version of this scene that I posted in the game had a completely different ending than the original version that's on my hard drive. Again, I suspect this must be because I had drafted the scene but, before I had a chance to post it, one of the other writers put up a scene containing incidents that could not be ignored. So, for the sake of completeness, I have included both endings here, the original in italics and parentheses, followed by the one that made it into the game.)

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With her belly happily full of fish, Vodola reflected upon their situation at the moment.

She was no longer angry at Levet. Well, maybe a little, but not enough that she'd do anything about it. It had probably been unnecessary for him to volunteer to sample the fish before the rest of them had, but at least the offer had shown some initiative on the part of the ferret. And some concern for his fellow castaways ... assuming he hadn't recognized the fish as harmless, and arranged the whole thing so that he could feed his greedy gut before the rest of them. But he'd ended up with his fair share of the meal, no more, so if that had been his strategy, it hadn't gained him anything.

Orlic had done a good job finding that freshwater stream, and catching those fish. The older vixen was quite resourceful. And Pyr knew more about the healing arts than Vodola did. The three of them made a good team. Even Cayenne, whose incapacity made her a liability at the moment, scored points for her personality; she could be annoying, but her flamboyance and indomitable good cheer was helping to keep everybeast's spirits high. Flat on her back under the scant shelter of their primitive lean-to, she could still sing a ditty or crack a joke (usually at her own expense) that would lift the corners of even the most dour mouth. Before the return of the others, the three vixens had repeatedly found themselves smirking and chuckling at Cayenne's antics in spite of themselves.

But Cairnait remained aloof, and had barely said two words to any of the vixens all day. She had spoken to Levet, especially when she'd thought the others weren't watching. The male and female ferret had spent much of the day together - hardly surprising, since it was clear that Vodola scorned him, and Vodola was sticking close to her fellow foxes. That had left Levet nowhere else to go, unless he wanted to be off by himself. What had the two ferrets talked about? If Cairnait was guiding the conversation, Vodola doubted it was anything good. Pyr was clearly of the opinion that Cairnait was nowhere near as deep or cunning as she appeared, but Vodola wasn't so sure about that. She was not about to underestimate a creature who might put a blade in any of their backs for her own advantage.

The situation was much improved now that the others had returned. Athi could be brusque and bossy, but the badger had constructed most of their shelter herself; her brawn was not something they could easily do without. Vinklinar, too, had strong paws and shoulders, and would more than pull his own weight. And now that Cayenne was laid up, Tundra was the only other competent ocean fisherbeast they had. Their chances for survival would improve greatly if all nine of them stayed together - they would be better able to defend themselves, they could see to their needs more easily, and Cairnait would be less likely to cause trouble with Athi, Vinklinar and Tundra around.

As to the other mysteries, Vodola was becoming less obsessed about them. Neither Pyr nor Orlic had revealed anything about Maulseed Academy or the second book, and Vodola was beginning to suspect that they had nothing to do with that. If she ever got off this island, she would return to her school, and present the second book as the one she'd borrowed; chances were nobeast would be able to tell the difference, and even if they could, having the replacement volume would probably be enough to spare her any serious punishment. As for Pyr's insistence that the Star Song had been wrecked on purpose, Vodola still wasn't sure what to make of that. If there was anything to it, then that was another good reason to have Athi there; the badger had been in the brig during the voyage, and could not have been part of any such conspiracy. If there was a conspirator among them, Athi's presence would keep them in line. Besides, even a ship-wrecking spy would want to get off this island as badly as the rest of them. If such a spy even existed.

For the moment, though, they were in good shape. There were several days' worth of provisions left from the ship, they knew the location of two separate freshwater springs (it was obvious from their descriptions that the streams Orlic and Cayenne had found were different ones), and they could always get more cocoanuts from the palm trees. They no longer needed the cocoanut milk to drink, but the fruit itself was sweet and greasy, which meant it contained a lot of energy, and that would be useful once their food from the ship was gone.

(_Vodola grabbed up a waterskin and a bucket salvaged from the wreck. "I think we should get more water from the streams," she announced to Pyr and Orlic. "Either of you care to join me? I don't relish going into those wilds alone."_

_"I'll go," said Orlic. "I know the way better, and Pyr should stay with Cayenne, to look after her leg."_

_"Makes sense. Let's get going."_)

Vodola was nestled comfortably down into the sand (she still hated the stuff for the way it clung to her fur and habit, but at least it was cozily soft for lying on), when an alarmed shout from Orlic and Tundra roused them all.

"The monster! The monster!"

Vodola sprang to her footpaws, braced for action. Following the pointed paws and gazes of the others, she saw why there was reason to be alarmed: not one but two of the enormous reptiles were barreling out of the foliage toward them ...

... straight at the lean-to shelter, where Cayenne lay almost helpless.

For the first time, Vodola's swords came out - one in each paw, waving wildly around her head as she sought to rally the others to the vulnerable otter. "To me, to me!" she cried. "Form a line before the shelter! We've got to protect Cayenne!"


	10. Chapter 10

(Author's Note: Here is yet another example of the thing that most drove me nuts about doing ROC:S. In the previous scene, Orlic introduced a second ship heading toward the island. I thought to myself, "The rules state there can be no other sentient creatures in the main story other than the nine contestants, so how're we gonna handle this?" In a rush of inspiration, I whip up a scene in which the ship breaks up spectacularly on the reef, leaving no survivors. But, when I go to post my wonderful piece of work, I find that Athi has in the meantime posted a scene of her own in which ... the ship breaks up spectacularly on the reef! Well, I never got to show that disused scene to anyone during the course of the game, so here 'tis!)

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With their campfire dampened and only the moonlight for illumination, the castaways stood holding their collective breath, waiting to see what this ominous new ship would bring.

"It's coming in, very fast," reported Athi, monitoring the vessel's approach through the spyglass. "They definitely mean to land ... probably a little upshore from us. But they'll be close ... and if they don't mean us well, this'll be trouble."

"I still think we should be trying to signal them," Pyr said petulantly.

Athi glanced aside scornfully at the foxmaid. "That's a corsair ship, or I'm a seagull! Maybe you have friends among the pirates, but if I live a hundred seasons without seeing the inside of a slave galley, I'll call myself lucky. It's no place for creatures like us. Most of us, anyway," she added with a snort.

"The vixen's right," Cairnait hissed smoothly. "Even being on a pirate ship would be an improvement over - "

Their debate was cut short by the terrible crunching and rending of wood being splintered and smashed asunder. Even from that far offshore, the sound was agonizing. It took a few moments for any of them to realize what had happened.

"The reef!" exclaimed Pyr. "They've driven full-sail right into the reef!"

"They'll be smashed to pieces!" cried Vinklinar.

"At the speed they were going," said Athi, "they can't have realized that reef was there. They must be strangers to these waters, just as we were."

"Or else somebeast switched their maps as well," Pyr muttered under her breath.

The corsair ship seemed to crumple and disintegrate right before their eyes, breaking apart and disappearing beneath the surface. "Get ready for survivors," warned the badger. "If anybeast on board made it through that alive, they'll be swimming ashore shortly. We must be ready for anything ... to help them, or to protect ourselves."

The night grew quiet once more. "I see somebeast!" Athi informed them after a minute or so. "Struggling in the surf. Several of them ... swimming this way ... "

Suddenly the night was filled with screams, carried across the water to the shore. Only Athi, with the aid of the spyglass, could clearly see the desperate thrashing of the survivors in the surf. Amid the frenzied cries, one word could be heard clearly, even all the way to the beach:

"Shark!"

The massacre didn't take long at all. Soon the nighttime sea was as calm and still and empty as if the ship and its crew had never existed. Several of the castaways sniffled in shock and disbelief at what they'd just witnessed.

"We caused that to happen," Vodola said into the silence.

The others stared at her as if she'd gone mad. "What ... what do you mean?" asked Orlic, still shaken by the tragedy.

"There were sharks offshore all evening," said the younger vixen. "Attracted by the remains of the two giant lizards we threw into the tide. They probably wouldn't have been there otherwise ... and some of those crewbeasts might have made it to shore."

"Well, we're alone once more," said Athi Retta. "And in this case, I have a feeling we're better off that way."


	11. Chapter 11

"Sifting Through"

(_And now, the scene I wrote and posted in place of the previous one. On the positive side, it did give me a chance to have Vodola react to Levet's recent death ... _)

The corpses from the latest wreck were piled and burning on the beach. Only Cairnait had suggested using the bodies for meat; the others, disgusted, had not even dignified her proposal with an answer.

Vodola was with Orlic, helping to go through some of the scattered wreckage from the reef's latest victim. "I can't believe they're all dead," the younger vixen shook her head. "They were so close ... "

"Looks like sharks got some of them," Orlic said. "A few might have made it, otherwise."

"The sharks wouldn't have been there if we hadn't attracted them with the bloody carcasses of those two giant lizards we threw into the surf. We're partly to blame for this, you know."

Orlic straightened from a section of wreckage she'd been inspecting. "It's Levet that still has you upset, isn't it?"

"Levet was stupid!" Vodola protested, a bit too forcefully. "What was he thinking, throwing himself at those monsters without any weapons? The rest of us were armed. He didn't need to sacrifice himself like that! We could have taken care of those brutes by ourselves!"

"Maybe his brave deed had more to do with himself than us," Orlic mused.

"What do you mean?"

"Levet knew he wasn't meant to be a free beast, and he didn't want to return to slavery either. There would have been nothing for him to go back to, even if he could have gotten off this island. There was goodness in him, but he didn't know how to bring it out, and that would have made it hard for him to fit in anywhere. So I would say that, for him, the suffering of his death was still less than the suffering of his life would have been."

"It's not right!" Vodola protested. "Nobeast should waste its life stupidly. Not even a beast like Levet."

"You cared for him at the end, didn't you?"

"I despised him!"

"Then why were there tears in your eyes as you came to his aid?"

Vodola glanced away, gazing out to sea. "You asked me before whether I might wish to join you as a traveling companion, once we get back to the mainland. Lately, I'm giving your offer more serious consideration. If it's still open."

Orlic smiled. "It is. But what about your school? Don't you wish to return there?"

"I think my school days might be behind me. There were things I was learning there that might not be best for me. And things I wasn't learning, I now realize, that maybe I should have been."

"Well, you certainly know how to handle those swords of yours," Orlic grinned wryly. "You'd be a good one to have on my side in any fight. But before you decide what to do with the rest of your life, let's see about getting off this island first. And let's hope that no more of us end up like Levet."

"We won't, if we're careful," said Vodola


	12. Chapter 12

"A New Danger"

(Author's Note: One of the biggest criticisms of ROC:S1 in general was the introduction by the writers of so many dangers, to the point where it got to be a "danger of the week" kind of thing. I plead guilty to having contributed perhaps more than my share of these, although in my case I had a very good reason for doing so: if Vodola was to die - and she came very close on at least two occasions - I knew how I wanted her to go out, and so I had to set up the means for her great death scene.

This scene that follows was not part of that; I'd simply always wanted to do something with electric eels in a Redwall setting. Unnecessary, perhaps ... but I do love the way this scene turned out!)

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Vodola had been down at the water's edge, near the cave where Levet had been laid to rest, when the second spell of rain came. There were other caves, still open to the outside, so rather than run all the way back to the campsite to huddle together with the others under the flimsy shelter, she ducked into the nearest cave to ride out the storm. She hoped it wouldn't last long; this cave was slightly below the tideline, and if it started flooding she would have to abandon it in a hurry.

Her eyes adjusted quickly; the thunderclouds had made it dark outside, so it wasn't like stepping into deep gloom from bright sunshine. An ankle-deep layer of water coated the cave's floor, so Vodola hitched up her habit and splashed over to a raised rock where she could sit and stay dry. At least for awhile, hopefully.

It was a very plain and simple rock grotto from what she could see. Smooth dull walls without any crevices or encrustations of sea life, a few other rocks like the one on which she sat. It did go back a way, but not too far before the ceiling curved down to meet the water.

Outside, the pounding of the torrential rain against sand and surf was almost deafening, making Vodola very glad indeed that she had claimed the closest shelter at paw. She had heard that tropical rainstorms usually blew over very fast, except for those rare monster storms that only happened once a season, if that. Vodola doubted this was one of those; they would have seen such a terror coming from a very long way away. This was just a passing storm, she was sure.

She saw, rather than heard, the rippling of the water toward the back of the cave, and turned her head just in time to see a large sinuous shape disturbing the surface. Vodola tensed, both paws going to her swords in case she needed to draw them in a hurry. The water must be a lot deeper back there, to hide a shape as large as that one appeared to be. If it were only a fish of some kind, she would probably be safe from it, since she sat in very shallow water where it would not be able to venture. But the vixen knew a serpentine shape could also mean a snake, and a large snake would be a threat even to Athi. Vodola prepared herself to jump up from her rock throne and flee the cave with all speed if she had to.

Then she saw and felt something that was utterly beyond her ability to explain. A sudden glow came from underneath the water, briefly illuminating a slender, coiled serpentlike form larger than she was. Flashes of light, accompanied by a whispering crackle like the distant snapping of very dry twigs, chased around the edges of her vision. Most alarming of all, her fur was suddenly all standing on end, from eartips to tailtip - not from fright, but because of something in the air around her. It was similar to the tingling sensation she sometimes got during a particularly potent lightning storm, only far more intense. Vodola was struck by the overwhelming feeling that her life was in immediate danger.

She sprang from the rock to run from the cave. When her footpaws hit the water, a shocking numbness shot through her, and it was all she could do to stumble the rest of the way out into the rain.

Standing in the drenching downpour, legs trembling so much that she could barely manage to stay on her feet, she knew that she had narrowly escaped something terrible in that cave, far more terrible than any giant lizard. Vodola didn't believe in magic, but what she'd just encountered was almost enough to change her mind. There had been death in that place - not the death of tooth and claw, but some force that could strike a beast dead in the blink of an eye, a menace that no sword or shield could counter. She wondered if any of the others might have an inkling of what this danger might be, but either way she had to warn them. Stumbling and lurching through the rain, Vodola pushed herself up the beach toward the camp.

Nobeast could be allowed to go near that cave again


	13. Chapter 13

"Go Climb a Tree, and Falling for the Weasel"

Vodola decided to climb a tree.

The late afternoon sun had chased away the stormclouds, returning the island to its usual sultry tropical brightness. It might have been weather to lift spirits, but a feeling of disquiet gripped the young vixen. The death of Levet ... Vinklinar's belief that there were more of those giant lizards ... the tragedy of the second shipwreck ... her close call in the cave from whatever mysterious threat dwelt there ... the unexplained tracks that Athi and Tundra had discovered ... and now Cairnait's report of an adders' nest nearby ... all these things conspired to weigh heavily on the foxmaid's mind. So Vodola decided upon an exercise that would chase this multitude of worries from her thoughts by making her face a much older fear.

She chose a palm tree whose trunk rose at an angle, starting off almost parallel to the ground before curving upward. Vodola stood looking up at the cocoanut-laden summit, and began reciting the litany against fear that she'd learned during her schooling.

"I will rule my fear. I will not let my fear rule me. I will rule my fear. I will not let my fear rule me. I will rule my fear ... "

Steeling herself for the effort, Vodola hopped atop the trunk and walked herself about a third of the way up, as she'd seen Vinklinar do the first time Athi had sent him up for cocoanuts. After that, the ascent was too steep, so she gripped at the bark with all four paws and shinnied the rest of the way to the top until she was right under the dome of drooping fronds.

In situations such as this, you were never supposed to look down. So Vodola swallowed her bile and looked down.

Back at Maulseed Academy, there was a class exercise called "Walking the Plank" - and that's exactly what it was. A long narrow plank was set between two high towers, several stories tall, and each student was expected to cross that treacherous span as part of their training. Being Maulseed, there was no pond or net or sandpit below; just the unyielding courtyard lawn, and a fall would result in broken bones, or worse. Vodola had known all her life that she was afraid of heights, but the depth of her phobia had never been driven home to her until that day when she had to face The Plank - or risk expulsion from Maulseed for having a fear she was unable to conquer. Her legs had turned to jelly, a cold sweat dampened her fur, and her stomach had done somersaults ... all before she'd even been brought up the tower stairs to actually face the abyss. She'd very nearly refused to go through with it, even with the stern instructor yelling into her ear and threatening her with a public lashing if she didn't complete the crossing. At last she did do as ordered, trembling and quaking with each shuffling step while tears of terror coursed down her cheeks. Once she was safely across, she collapsed in a fevered state, and was unable to attend classes or take so much as a morsel of food for two days.

Her trainers had not been pleased at her display ... but they'd never made her walk the plank again. She'd proven she could do it once, and that was all that was required from each student. And Vodola was proving too talented in other areas to risk losing her in an accident, or to expulsion. Maulseed was not one to waste a promising poisoner and assassin.

This palm tree wasn't one of the taller ones, and the soft sand below would protect her from serious harm were she to fall. Vodola forced herself to stare down until the dizziness of her vertigo made her vision swim. She closed her eyes and shook it off, then directed her gaze up at the cocoanuts hanging about her. Well, she might as well do something useful while she was here. Gripping for dear life with three paws, she drew one of her shortswords with her free paw and began hacking at the stems to some of the closest cocoanuts to dislodge them. Almost as an afterthought, she called out, "Look out below!"

A startled cry sounded beneath her. Startled herself, Vodola glanced down and saw Vinklinar cowered and ducking from the sudden cascade of hard-shelled fruit, and not entirely succeeding as several pelted him roughly. Her surprise (or was it something more?) made her lose her grip, and she found herself falling.

The old terror barely had time to assert itself, it happened so fast. The next thing she knew she was crashing into flesh and fur and bone as she landed right on top of the hapless weasel.

They tumbled to the ground together and then rolled apart. For several moments they sat upon the sand, staring at each other.

"You made me fall," Vodola said at last.

"Well, you shouldn't go climbing trees if you can't keep your grip," the weasel retorted. "You fell right on top of me."

"Well, you shouldn't have been standing there. It's your own fault."

Vinklinar felt himself for bruises. "Wish you could've landed on the sand instead of on me."

"That makes two of us. The sand's a lot softer than you are."

Vinklinar glowered at the vixen. "You don't like me very much, do you?"

Vodola gave him an earnest stare of puzzlement. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked with genuine surprise.

"I dunno. Just the way you act toward me. Not exactly friendly."

Vodola took her time answering. "Vinklinar, I don't have anything against you at all. Quite the contrary. I remember how hard you worked aboard the Star Song, even when some of the other crewbeasts were goofing off. You've got a strong back and paws, and you're not reluctant to use them. A pretty good head on your shoulders too. All in all, I'd much rather be shipwrecked with you than without you."

Now it was Vink's turn to be surprised. A bashful smile came to his lips. "Really?"

"Really. And you were one of the first to say you were sorry when my book got burned. I did appreciate that, even if I wasn't in much of a state to show it at the time."

"Oh. Well, um, don't mention it. Only being polite ... I could see how upset you were ... " Vinklinar got to his feet, extending a paw to help Vodola up too. "Are you hurt at all?"

"Don't think so, though by all rights I should be. You're a very bony and brawny fellow, Vink."

"How can I be bony _and_ brawny?" the weasel laughed.

"You know what I mean - you're not all fat and flabby, like somebeasts allow themselves to get." She looked Vinklinar up and down as she slid her blade back into its scabbard. "I have a classmate back at school who's a weasel. One of my very best friends, actually. Not that we ever did anything about it ... "

Vinklinar looked at her, confused. "Did anything about it?"

"You know ... became more than friends. But I'm quite fond of him, even if he is a big ugly lunk. He's got a good heart, a true and loyal friend. You remind me of him, a little ... although you're actually a lot handsomer than he is."

Vink blushed at this unexpected and unsolicited flattery. "Um ... I think you should get in the habit of telling otherbeasts what you really think more often. It's very easy to get the wrong idea about you, you know."

"I was brought up never to be especially open with my feelings. It can cause more trouble than it's worth. Better to just sit back and watch, and listen ... and learn. Particularly in an uncertain situation."

"Yeah, well, I thought you'd had me an' Levet pegged as not worth the time of day ... "

"I never put you in the same class as Levet. You're what he wanted to be, I suppose ... a vermin who made himself a goodbeast. Not that I necessarily think of you as vermin, anymore than I consider myself vermin. You're just a goodbeast who happens to be a weasel."

Their conversation was cut short by Orlic, who came hurrying over to them from where the others had been conferring about the latest slew of dangers. "Are you two all right?" she asked worriedly.

Vodola laughed off the older vixen's obvious concern. "Just a little tumble from the tree. Vink here was kind enough to catch me. It would take more than that to do us any real harm."

"It was more than that," Orlic said. "Don't tell me you two didn't feel it?"

"Feel what?" Vinklinar asked.

"The whole island just shook. The trees were swaying, and the sand was vibrating. We just had an earthquake!"

Vink and Vodola stared at each other. "And you blamed me for making you fall," the weasel accused the fox playfully, although there was unease in his voice.

Vodola glanced inland, toward the craggy peak that stood at the center of the island. She'd looked that way many times since their stranding, but had never really seen what was plainly there to see. The summit of that mountain was eternally wreathed in mist, no matter the time of day or the weather. Mere clouds wouldn't behave like that. There was something more going on here, and Vodola realized she should have seen it long before now.

"I don't want to alarm anybeast," she said, "but I do believe we may be sharing this island with an active volcano."


	14. Chapter 14

"Debate ... and Solution"

A debate broke out among the castaways.

Half of them wanted to commence immediately on the construction of a raft that would carry them a safe distance offshore in the event of a volcanic eruption. The other half pointed out that any major eruption would likely wipe out all the food and water sources on the island, dooming them anyway even if they survived the cataclysm itself. Besides, there were also those fire eels to consider, with their invisible killing energies that might be able to reach them even on a raft. Much better, it was argued, to concentrate for now on building a more secure shelter to protect them from giant lizards, native rats and any other unknown island creatures who might turn hostile at any moment.

Vodola sat out the argument, even though she had been the one to suggest swimming offshore to escape an eruption. She'd forgotten about the fire eels when she'd said that, and now she tended to lean toward the faction in favor of building of a bigger, stronger defense. Those rats had been hard to gauge during their brief passage by the camp, but she felt sure they were savages. Their various articles of clothing were mismatched and ill-fitting, and Vodola suspected that everything they wore had been pilfered from other shipwreck victims. Those rodents hadn't struck her as capable of even the most rudimentary tailoring or clothesmaking talents. She wondered whether they were even capable of speech at all.

Pyr and Vinklinar drifted over to where she sat. "What do you think?" the other vixen inquired. "A raft doesn't seem like a very good idea, now that all the hazards have been pointed out."

"It's better than just sitting here and getting drowned in lava!" Vinklinar argued, looking to Vodola as a newfound ally. "You were the one who suggested getting off the island if the volcano blew."

Vodola shrugged. "Like Pyr says, the disadvantages might outweigh the advantages. I hadn't thought the whole thing through when I spoke. Those fire eels aren't something we want to mess with if we don't have to."

"They probably couldn't get to us through the raft," Vinklinar protested. "We should at least build one, just so we have it ready in case we need it. Cayenne and Tundra think it's a good plan, and so does Orlic."

"Cayenne's on the fence, actually," Pyr corrected the weasel. "She's not too wild about the idea of being out on the water, surrounded by deadly eels and maybe sharks too, and not being able to swim with her broken leg."

"So she'd be better off lying around here waiting for the next danger to show its head?"

"You saw how those eels went crazy when the volcano gave that little puff earlier. If we shoved off on a raft with the next eruption, the waters would be roiling with them! Besides which, we don't even know if we'd have enough warning in a major eruption to get to a raft ... "

Vodola held up her paws to quell their quibbling. "I DO think that building a raft in case we need it as a last resort might not be a bad idea ... but I think we should build the shelter first. Those rats look to have been living here for quite some time - maybe major eruptions are very rare. It might not happen at all. But we do know there are dangerous creatures on this island, and protecting ourselves from them has got to be our top priority."

"Gee," Vinklinar said a tad petulantly, "I thought I could count on you as a friend."

Vodola gave him a sharp glance. "You can count on me to do whatever I think is best to keep all of us alive, and that is a promise. I don't really think of myself as having any friends here. We must be more than that to each other, because our survival may depend on it."

Vink glanced from one vixen to the other. "Guess I should've realized you two would stick together. Well, it looks like we'll be building that shelter, since Athi's in favor of it too ... and whatever that badger says goes. With you two on her side, the rest of us will just have to fall into line. As usual."

"This isn't anything to get resentful over," Vodola said to him, setting a conciliatory paw on his shoulder. "And we can't let something like this divide us. Come on, I have an idea that I think will satisfy everybeast ... "

The three of them returned to the others, and Vodola stood up before them to address her fellow castaways. "Let's stop this bickering and get to work. The shelter and the raft are both good ideas ... so let's build them both!"

"We haven't got enough paws to divide the labor like that," Athi complained. "We should build the shelter first, and forget about the raft for now."

"You're overlooking an obvious solution," Vodola smiled at the badger.

"What?" several asked her at once.

"Well, what will the walls of our shelter be built of?"

"More wood," said Athi. "Treetrunks, lashed together in stockade-wall fashion."

"Fine. So, why don't we design one section of the wall so that it can be pulled down and used as a raft if we need to?


	15. Chapter 15

"A Hard Day's Night"

By day's end they'd dragged a good score of trees out of the woods and onto the beach - the first beginnings of their hoped-for fortress. They'd decided to put off taking any action against the rats along the lines that Tundra had suggested - at least until the following day.

As sunset gave way to twilight, enough dry driftwood was gathered to keep the campfire burning through the night. There had been no further sign of any more rats or giant lizards (or the fire eels, who had the good grace to remain in the water). But it was decided to post a double watch until dawn. Pyr and Cayenne took the first shift, since they'd not helped with the log-hauling.

Vodola was scouting around for a good patch of sand where she could spend the night in reasonable comfort, when she ran into Vinklinar, who appeared to be engaged in a similar search for himself. The two youngbeasts' gazes met.

"Um ... that was a good idea of yours," Vink told the vixen. "About building a wall section that could also be used as a raft. I guess you really do want what's best for all of us. I'm sorry if I was a little short with you before. It's just that everybeast's been ordering me around ever since we got here. 'Vink, climb that tree.' 'Vink, come with us into the jungle.' 'Vink, help us haul this lumber.' I'm used to taking orders, but I'm not everyone's servantbeast here."

"No, you're not," Vodola agreed charitably. "What you are is valuable, and that's why you're always being called on to help. You should take it as a compliment, even if it does grate on you sometimes. Truthfully, I think everybeast here likes you. Even Athi - she just can't let herself be seen showing fondness toward anybeast. It'd ruin her image!"

The young weasel chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. We're all gonna hafta work pretty hard if we want to get out of this ... "

Vodola started to say something, hesitated, then began again. "Did you mean what you said earlier? About counting on me as a friend?"

"Well, sure ... " Vink slapped his forehead in mock realization. "That's right! You don't have any friends here!" And then he gave her a quick grin to let her know he was just teasing her.

"Maybe I spoke too soon about that," she admitted. "You know, the first day or two we were here, Pyr didn't trust me at all. Thought I was part of that conspiracy theory of hers. That's why I was so surprised when you made that comment about me and Pyr always sticking together."

"Well, you've gotta admit, you two are getting along much better lately."

"Yes, we are. And that's a good thing. But I don't want my closeness with anybeast here to make the others think I'm excluding them. We're all allies, working for the same goal - to stay alive and hopefully find a way off this island. Except maybe for Cairnait, whom I wouldn't trust as far as I could throw her."

"Yeah, I know what you mean about her - she kinda gives me the creeps. And I know what you mean about Pyr too - for awhile I think she had me pegged as the one who wrecked the 'Star Song,' if you can believe it!"

"Glad we set her straight on that!" Vodola laughed.

"Do you mind?" Athi grumbled from out of the gathering dark. "I've got watch at midnight, and I'd like to get some sleep between now and then!"

"Aw ... " Vinklinar was about to say something rude, then thought better of it. He flopped right down where he was. "Boy, I'm dragged out from all that draggin'. I'll sleep tonight like one of those logs I was pullin' today!"

"Hey, that's my spot!" Vodola protested.

"First come, first served," Vink smiled slyly up at her.

"Oh, yeah?" Vodola stretched out beside him, hollowing out a depression for herself in the sand that was so close to Vink that they were nearly touching. "Hope you like company, 'cos I'm not moving!"

Vinklinar regarded the young foxmaid. Well, he'd bunked with far worse in his travels. "Okay ... jus' so long as you don't snore!"

"For your news, I snore like a badger." She snuggled into her habit, drawing it about her like a blanket. Lying on her side facing him, she said softly, "I feel like sleeping alongside somebeast tonight ... one who might think of me as a friend."

"That's me," he murmured.

It was a long time before their gazes parted.


	16. Chapter 16

"Disbelief"

The other five castaways were shocked to hear about Ciarnait. And, in a few cases, skeptical.

"I don't believe it," Pyr said outright. "A villain as full of herself as Ciarnait was wouldn't just ... end it like that."

"How do we know she was the villain we made her out to be?" asked Orlic. "Can anybeast here really say we knew her?"

"I agree with Pyr," said Vinklinar. "She was a devious one, not to be trusted. I think she may be up to something ... "

"Like what?" scowled Athi, who had just returned from burying the corsair weasel lady's bracelets in a secluded spot in the woods.

"Maybe she faked her death," Pyr suggested. "So that we'd think she was dead, and then ... "

"Then what?" the badger demanded. Athi was still inwardly shaken by the discovery of Ciarnait's suicide message scrawled in the sand, although she hid it well. "Crept off somewhere by herself? On an island full of monster lizards, savage rats and seasons only know what else? That would be very smart of her, if she valued her hide as more than maggot food."

"I'd be more convinced if I could see her body," Pyr said stubbornly.

"Her blood was on the beach," Tundra reminded them.

"Only a few drops," maintained the vixen. "How do we know it was even hers? She could have killed a seabird or some small animal, and used its blood ... "

Vinklinar turned to Vodola. "What do you think?" It was obvious from his tone that he valued her opinion.

Vodola ran her steepled paws across her pursed lips. "Normally, I would agree with you and Pyr. But there's something about this ... the bone bracelets more than anything. Only a certain kind of beast would wear the bone of another creature - and that kind of beast would not easily part with such ornaments. I think if Ciarnait were only hiding from us, as part of some bizarre plot, she would have kept her bracelets. I can't explain why she did what she did ... but I do believe that she gave herself to the sea, just as it appears."

The group stood silently in a circle as they digested this statement.

"So," Vinklinar said at last, "there are only seven of us now."

Athi glanced out at the rising sun, now well above the sea horizon. "Let's get back to work on the shelter - before it gets any hotter."


	17. Chapter 17

"Two Together"

Pyr had gone only two steps when she heard from behind her a rustling that stood out from the patter of the storm's early raindrops. Drawing her dagger, she spun to face the intruder.

Vodola's red-furred face melted out of the foliage, followed by the rest of her; the green habit, with the cowl pulled up over her head, was perfect camouflage for an environment such as this. Pyr relaxed and put away her dagger, relieved to see a friend instead of something dangerous, but a little piqued at having been startled like that. "Vodola. What are you doing here?"

"Athi's orders," said the other vixen. "You're the most skilled healer we have, and Athi didn't want you wandering about on your own. Especially in a storm. So she sent me after you." Vodola glanced around the grove. "What the fur happened here?"

"The natives," Pyr answered. "Guess we all forgot they have to eat too."

Vodola narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the fruity carnage. "If that's all it is. You don't suppose they did this to deprive us of our own food supply?"

"I hadn't thought of that. Could be. But I had an idea about a possible food source myself." And she outlined to Vodola her notion of going to investigate the volcanic slopes.

Vodola stroked her chin fur in contemplation. "I don't know, Pyr ... that volcano's a good day's march from here. Maybe more, if we have to battle this terrain in the midst of a downpour. I could understand, if we were really hard up for food. But we're not that desperate yet. I'm kind of wary about journeying that far from the others."

"You don't have to come with me. I can probably travel faster on my own anyway. And bad weather might keep our rat friends under cover."

"There is that. How's your ankle feeling?"

"Just about back to normal. Like you said, I'm a skilled healer." Pyr flashed a mischievious grin at her companion.

Vodola shook her head resolutely. "If you're going, I'm going. All you've got for protection is that dagger, and you can't handle it like I can my shortswords. Besides, if I showed up back at camp and told Athi I'd let you venture alone into the interior of the island, she'd gut me and serve ME for dinner!"

"Okay, so let's get going. I'd like to prove you wrong, and get back to the beach by nightfall. Um, which way to the mountain, anyway?"

"That's the most direct way, I think," Vodola pointed along the trail made by the messy ratprints, "but I think maybe we should try a different route. Looks like there were a lot of those savages here. Let's try to avoid them if we can."

"No argument from me." The pair set out from another side of the clearing, making for the volcanic peak on a roundabout course that would hopefully steer them clear of the heart of the rats' settlement.

They conversed as they shouldered their way through the dense growth, the increased drumming of the heavy raindrops against the leaves helping to cover their voices from any enemies who might be near. The canopy hid the sky most of the time, and they had to stop to get their bearings on the mountain during the infrequent breaks in the trees. "So, why you?" Pyr asked. "Why didn't Athi send somebeast else out after me?"

"Because I'm good with my swords," said Vodola. "And because Athi, Vink and Tundra are all a lot brawnier than I am, and their muscle was needed to work on the shelter. I might be strong for my size, but I'm no match for any of them. Even Orlic's got stronger arms and shoulders than I do."

"Makes sense. I thought it might be because you and I have been getting along so well lately."

"There's that too," Vodola admitted. "But then, we've all been pulling together this past day or so. The way we should have been right from the start."

Vodola's voice carried no accusatory tones, so Pyr ignored this possible jibe at her own early suspicions about her fellow castaways. "Yes, we are all getting closer, after Ciarnait's death. Like you and Vinklinar. I'm surprised you were willing to leave him to come after me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Vodola asked defensively.

"Well, the two of you were looking pretty cozy last night ... "

"We were sleeping close together in case of an attack."

"Oh, really?" Pyr gave Vodola a playfully appraising look. "Then why not nestle up to Athi? She'd be my choice for protection from an attack."

Vodola returned Pyr a knowing smile. "Why, are you mad because I'm hogging the only malebeast left on this island all to myself? Well, I don't own Vink. If you're interested, let him know. I'm sure he'd be flattered."

Pyr made a face as she wiped rain from her eyes. "I never went for weasels. Not even decent ones like Vink. How you could even think of pairing up with somebeast other than one of your fellow foxes, I can't imagine. That must be some school you went to."

"It taught me to make the best of my options in any situation." Vodola grew silent for a few moments. "Although the wandering I've done this past season has shown me there's a lot more to this world than what I was learning about at school."

"Just these last few days have been enough to show me that," said Pyr. "But I am glad you followed me out here, Vodola. I feel better having somebeast like you by my side. I'd like to live to see tomorrow, and I think you'll improve my chances of getting there."

In silence, with the gathering storm as their companion, the two vixens penetrated further into the island's interior gloom.


	18. Chapter 18

"Tunnel Talk"

The two vixens cowered in the shelter of the stone stairway tunnel.

"I say we head back," said Vodola. "Right now, or just as soon as this downpour tapers off a bit. We didn't go as far as we were planning to, but we've found the fertile ground you were looking for. And we've found enough else to make a worthy report back to the others. That ruined city ... all those wrecked ships on the western shore ... "

"Not to mentioned the giant, noisy adder," Pyr added. "I've never heard anything like that! And I hope I never do again!"

"Yes, that worries me. Back at school, one of my instructors once speculated on whether sound could be used as a weapon. I don't know about you, Pyr, but I actually felt partially paralyzed by the noise that snake was making."

"Yes, I felt that way too," Pyr nodded. "If that thing can make a noise that immobilizes us, it's far more dangerous than the rats or the giant lizards. We'd be helpless against it ... "

"Maybe not helpless," said Vodola, the light of an idea glimmering in her eye. "But the others have got to be warned about this. If that noise can paralyze Athi too, we'd be vulnerable even if we all stick together. Lucky for us that reptile was too busy chasing those rats to notice us. Otherwise we could be sleeping in that monster's belly right now."

"What a cheery thought. You don't suppose there are more of those things running about, do you?"

"There's seldom one of anything," Vodola said grimly.

"What if one has already attacked the camp?" Pyr asked, unaware that the very snake which had passed them had previously menaced their fellow castaways.

"We'll just have to assume it hasn't," Vodola said resolutely. "But the news of the fertile land here is just as important - those provision from the ships won't last much longer, and we passed enough fruit and vegetables growing here to last us seasons."

Pyr twisted her face in a look of disdain. "I hope we won't still be on this island seasons from now."

"Me too. But it's nice to know we won't starve anytime soon. That's one way I'd rather _not_ die."

Pyr was stroking her whiskers in thought. "Those were an awful lot of ships beached on the western shore. I'd bet that with a little work we could probably fix one of them up well enough to sail it off this island."

"Maybe," Vodola shrugged. "I don't know anything about boatbuilding or ship repair. But it's one thing to get a craft seaworthy again, and quite another to actually go to sea. It appears those reefs might surround the entire island. Those ships on the western shore didn't wreck for no reason."

"One thing at a time," said Pyr. "If we know we have a boat that can get us off this island, then we'll see about how to best use it. But I think our options just opened up a great deal. Along with our reasons for hope."

"Like I said, we've got a lot to let the others know about." Vodola glanced out the tunnel opening. "The rain's almost stopped again. One good thing about these tropical downpours: they may be frequent, but they do blow over quickly. Come on, let's get back to camp."

"Do we know the way?" Pyr inquired, almost incidentally.

"We'll find our way ... or else we'll spend our night in the jungle."


	19. Chapter 19

"The Western Shore"

"What is _with_ this rain?" Vodola complained into the torrents lashing from the sky. She certainly wasn't speaking for the benefit of her fellow vixen; she would have had to shout for Pyr to hear her above the storm's din.

They were making their way through the jungle-like forest as best they could. Vodola's raised hood kept the worst of the precipitation out of her eyes, so she took the lead while Pyr, lacking any such protection and almost blinded by the water running down her face, held onto Vodola's habit cord for guidance. Vodola kept one shortsword drawn to use as both machete against the thick vegetation and as a weapon if needed. It was impossible to see more than ten paces in any direction through the sheeting rain when it was at its worst, and that could very easily hide an adversary. Chances were that any potential enemy knew better than to be out in weather like this, but Vodola was taking no unnecessary risks.

"This is ridiculous!" Vodola complained, slashing a large frond out of their path. "It stops, it starts, it stops, it starts again ... I wish this rain would make up its mind!" Then, through a momentary lull, she saw a slight brightening in the trees ahead. She turned back to Pyr, clinging desperately to Vodola's waist. "I think I see the beach ahead!"

"_WHAT_?" Pyr was barely audible through the racket.

"THE BEACH IS JUST AHEAD!" Vodola repeated, then said no more to spare her throat. Pyr nodded her understanding, and the two pushed ahead on what they thought would be the final leg of their return trip.

They quickly found out how mistaken they were. Emerging through the tree cover onto the beach, they were both thrown back a step in surprise. One of the shipwrecks lay on the wet sand directly before them, towering over the two foxes like a dark ghost castle in the rain. They'd journeyed west instead of south, to the ship graveyard instead of back to their companions.

The gutted hull lay on its side, its relatively intact port side curving up toward the sky. The open wreck formed a cave of sorts. Vodola leaned over and yelled into Pyr's ear, "Let's take shelter in there - it'll protect us from the worst of the storm!" She started toward it at a half-run, but Pyr seemed resistant and dragged behind. Vodola kept going, and at last Pyr was left with no choice but to follow after her.

It was almost as noisy under the shattered wood hull as it had been in the jungle. Vodola drew back her sopping cowl and turned to Pyr. "Why did you hesitate?"

"When we were up on the plateau, I thought I might have seen figures moving down around these wrecks," Pyr reminded her.

"I hadn't forgotten." Vodola still brandished her blade meaningfully. "But getting in out of the storm was our top priority. If there are enemies here, we'll just have to hope there aren't so many that we can't handle them."

Pyr settled onto the damp sand and drew her knees up to her chest, looking thoroughly miserable. Vodola crouched beside her, keeping her senses sharp and alert. Both vixens were soaked through to the skin; the odor of wet clothes and even wetter fur quickly permeated the space around them.

But it was a good space, as it turned out; all bulkheads and decks had long since rotted away (or been removed by somebeast) so the empty hull really was like a big wood cave, clear of any cover which might be hiding dangers. On the down side, this also left Pyr and Vodola nowhere to go if they were attacked here, but they would worry about that when it happened. For now, the rain was their greatest enemy, and this shelter defeated it nicely.

"We got lost," Pyr said unnecessarily. "We were trying to get back to the camp, and we ended up here instead. How are we going to get back to the others?"

"First, we wait for the rain to stop," Vodola answered over the drumming of the heavy tropical drops on the dull planks above their heads. "Then, we head south. Not back through the jungle. We'll just follow the beach." She turned to face the angry sea. "We know from our plateau view that this is the western shore, which means that that way," she pointed to her right, "is north, and that way," she pointed to her left, "is south ... where our friends are. No sense getting tangled up in the jungle again. Let's just hope this beach isn't interrupted by any cliffs or crevasses. Otherwise we'll have to strike inland once more, and that could get us turned around and lost again."

"Sounds like a plan," Pyr nodded. "Now let's hope that this storm ends sometime this season. I'm starting to get hungry."

"Forget about this season," said Vodola. "Let's hope it ends before nightfall. I'd hate to be stuck here amongst these forbidding wrecks after dark ... just in case something IS living in them.


	20. Chapter 20

"The Clear Dawning"

Vodola awoke to the sound of a seagull's cry - not a lazy squawk from afar, but a brash caw that cut off her unremembered dream and lurched her into abrupt wakefulness.

The menacing gull stood mere paces away, clearly trying to intimidate the two vixens into abandoning their shelter. Shaking her head to bring herself fully awake, Vodola drew one of her blades and charged at the intruder. The gull flapped and staggered backward on the sand, unprepared for such aggressiveness from a creature that had seemed so small and helpless moments before. She chased it out into the morning sun, at which point it flapped into the sky and beat an aerial retreat from the angry fox.

Vodola sheathed her sword and returned to Pyr's side. "Well, at least the sun's out. How are you feeling this morning?"

Pyr stretched painfully. "Sleeping on wet sand under a decrepit wreck isn't the best thing for your back. And I had the most awful dream ... thought I was going mad, and tried to ... " Pyr's voice trailed off as she saw her dagger stuck into Vodola's habit cord, and her face fell. "It wasn't a dream, was it?" she asked hollowly.

Vodola shook her head. "If you mean trying to kill us both, no, that was quite real. You really gave me a scare ... as if I don't have enough things to worry about on this fur-forsaken island." There was suppressed rage in her voice.

"Vodola, I'm so sorry," said Pyr. "Please don't be angry with me ... "

Vodola's expression softened, and she came and gave Pyr a quick kiss on the top of her head. "I'm mad at both of us, for falling asleep during the night. That's something we should _not_ have let happen, not with seasons-only-knows-what lurking about here. Fortunately, we seem to have made it through the night none the worse for it. I guess we were both pretty exhausted, after that struggle through the storm. My habit's still so wet, it feels like I'm carrying another whole fox around with me."

"I don't think I could have stood a watch if you'd propped my eyelids open with twigs. I was totally drained." Pyr stood and shook the sand from her clothes and tail. "And now I'm about as hungry as I've ever been in my life. Hope there's some good fruit around here. And not those fuzzy hard things - we'd never get them open without Athi to help us."

"Yes, that badger's worth her weight in muscle. You don't realize how much you rely on her until you have to make do without her." Vodola glanced south along the beach. "Speaking of which, I think we should set out for the camp as soon as we've eaten. I don't want to waste any time in rejoining the others."

"Me neither," Pyr heartily agreed. "But I would like to examine these ships at greater length. Maybe a larger group of us can return here for that ... "

"Something tells me Athi will insist on it, once she learns about this ship's graveyard," said Vodola, unaware of the tragedy that was soon to occur amongst their fellow castaways farther to the south.

They hastily foraged a few pawfuls of fruit from the nearest trees, mindful not to venture too far into the thick of the vegetation. As they returned to the beach, eating their fill as they stuffed extra fruit into their pockets for the walk home, Vodola stopped and looked down. "Um, Pyr? Come tell me what you think of this ... "

The other vixen drew alongside her. There in the sand, near the gull's webbed footprints, were the tracks of another creature. Thin splayed claws, unlike anything they'd seen on the island so far. And they were just outside the hull under which they'd slept.

"Somebeast was watching us last night," Pyr breathed.

"So it appears." Vodola glanced nervously around. "Let's get the hellsgates out of here."

As the two vixens started south, hidden eyes amid the dense undergrowth observed their departure. The true masters of this island were finally aware of the castaways. But for now, they would remain hidden ... watching ... waiting ...


	21. Chapter 21

"Footprints in the Daylight"

While Pyr meditated and the others discussed, Vodola stood alone on the tideline, letting the gentle waves lap around her footpaws. The bottom of her habit was getting wet - not that it had fully dried from the storm - but she didn't care.

Vinklinar approached. She acknowledged his presence with the barest of nods, then returned her gaze to the sea.

"Uh, Tundra and Orlic think you should be there to help decide what we're gonna do next," the young weasel said. "We don't know whether we should try to build more shelters, or go look at those ships you and Pyr found ... "

Vodola shrugged. "I'm beginning to think it doesn't really matter. Athi was the biggest and strongest of us, and may have had the best head on her shoulders of any of us. And now she's dead. If this island can kill the likes of her, what chance do any of us have?"

Vink scowled. "That was a real freak accident, what happened to Athi. It doesn't have anything to do with this island, or our chances if we stick together."

"She was killed by the poison Pyr and I made for the lizards. We never even got a chance to use it on our enemies - just our friends. Like when we threw the two lizard bodies into the surf after Levet died, attracting all those sharks ... and then when the second ship went down, there was no chance of any of them surviving, thanks to us. We're killing ourselves. Little by little, one bit at a time. We don't need the island to do it. We're doing a perfectly good job of it on our own."

"That's no way to talk!" Vink protested. "Before you and Pyr showed up this morning, we had no way of knowing whether you might have been killed too. Disappearing in the middle of the storm like that ... I was worried about you. I'm glad you got back all right. It would have been a real blow to lose all three of you."

Some of Vodola's moroseness seemed to drop away. "I do like you, Vink. Getting to know you has been one of the few bright spots in this whole insane mess." She exhaled a long, slow sigh. "But I can't help but feel that any friends I make here will only be taken away again right away. It reminds me why I never let myself have very many friends. Losing them can be hard."

"Living can be tough," Vinklinar admitted, "but as my old mates used to say, it beats the alternative!"

"Yes, death is easy," Vodola mused. "Dying can be hard, but once you're dead, all your pains and worries are behind you. Maybe Ciarnait knew what lay in store for us. I thought she was a fool to take her own life, but maybe she was the smartest one of us."

"As long as there's life, there's hope."

The vixen looked searchingly at the young weasel. "You really believe that?"

"What else can I believe? I'm not ready to give up yet, to just lay down and die. And you shouldn't be either."

Pyr strode lightly across the sand toward them, a secret smile on her face. The other two puzzled at her attitude. "That meditation of yours must really work," Vink commented.

"Oh, yes, it does," Pyr said, "but that's not why I'm smiling." She pointed down the beach to where a group of sandpipers raced in and out with each lapping wave. "See those silly birds?"

"Skittish little things," Vodola nodded. "Running away from the waves, just like they ran away from us on our walk back here. Afraid of their own shadows ... "

"And you know what their tracks look like?" Pyr pointed to a patch of the sand nearby. "See for yourself, Vodola -_ that's_ what was outside our shelter last night, not some monster stalking us!"

Vodola walked over to examine the birdprints more closely. Yes, Pyr may have been right. But then again ...

"Come on, you two," Pyr motioned for them to follow her back toward the others, "let's all six of us put our heads together and see what's to be done now!"


	22. Chapter 22

"Snakedance"

With Tundra, Orlic and Vinklinar away exploring caves, Vodola had assumed the other three of them would stay together on the beach now that they'd finished their foraging. So she was surprised to see Cayenne walking toward the trees with one of their drinking water buckets in paw. "Um, where are you going?"

"We need water," Cayenne announced, holding the empty bucket. "We're fresh out of fresh, and things'll get mighty thirsty in this tropical heat pretty quickly. Besides, my legs could use a stretch. My good one, anyway. I'm just glad to be up and around again, even in a splint!"

The nearest freshwater spring to their camp - or what was left of their camp - was still some way into the trees and undergrowth. And Vodola remembered what had happened to Cayenne on one of her previous forays into the jungle. "We should all stick together. Pyr and I will come with you."

"I'll stay here," Pyr volunteered. "Somebeast ought to remain here in case the others return. Don't want them finding camp empty and thinking something's happened to us."

"Will you be all right staying here alone?" Vodola asked.

Pyr nodded. "If anything nasty comes along, I'll run for it. I can move pretty fast, now that my ankle's all healed. Besides, we've got plenty of extra weapons from the lizard's lair. Speaking of which ... " Pyr took one of their spare swords from that cache and gave it to Cayenne. "I think you should both be armed, if you're going into that wilderness."

"Thanks!" the performer grinned. "Now I can make myself useful!" She began swinging the sword about her haphazardly, causing her two companions to back away a step or two.

Vodola started toward the jungle. "Um, why don't you stay a few paces behind me? I'm rather fond of my tail, and I don't feel like losing it today ... "

The dense tropical growth soon swallowed them, pressing in on all sides and cutting them off from the beach. After several minutes of walking, they still hadn't found any spring. "I thought we'd reach it by now," the vixen said. "I don't want to go too much farther, otherwise we might have trouble finding our way back to the camp. I've been lost on this island once already, and it's not an experience I'd care to repeat. You were at one of the springs before, Cayenne. Don't you remember exactly where it was?"

"Who can remember where anything is on this island?" the otter said lightly. "I never was much good with directions ... or jungles ... or roughing it. But I'm taking a definite shine to this saber here. Hafta get me one of these when I get home. Yeargh! Harr!"

Vodola jumped back from the enthusiastic otter's latest bit of totally amateur swordplay. "Right, that's it - you march in front from now on. Let's strike out that way, to the left. I want to parallel the beach - I think we should have found at least one spring or creek by now. Especially with all that rain from the storm."

They found what they sought a minute or so later; Cayenne splashed into it with her stiffly splinted leg before she actually saw it. "Whoops! Here we go! Fresh water aplenty!" Sticking her sword into the soft bank, she tried to bend so she could fill her bucket from the spring, but her braced leg made such movement difficult.

"Here, let me," Vodola offered, taking the pail from the otter and scooping it full effortlessly. She passed it back to Cayenne, who was thrown momentarily off balance by the weight, then filled her own pail.

That was when she heard the adder.

The serpent had crept fairly close before unleashing its paralyzing noise, so there was little time to react. Vodola, kneeling on the bank, let go of her bucket and automatically dug her paws into the mud below the surface. It wasn't quite the same kind of mud that Vinklinar had used for his earlier demonstration, but it would have to do. Working quickly, she scooped up two big pawfuls of the muck and stuffed it firmly into her ears. Instantly the noise diminished enough so that she was not struck helpless.

Vodola glanced back at Cayenne. Due to the awkwardness of her splinted leg, the otter had been unable to reach the mud to protect her hearing. As Vodola watched, Cayenne fell over onto her side, face half in the water, immobilized by the snake's sonic weapon.

Staying in a crouch, the vixen drew both of her shortswords but held them low as the scaled terror approached them. She would only have one chance at this. Let the monster think she was paralyzed too.

The giant triangular head, half as big as Vodola's whole body, nosed its way fully into the clearing. The vixen forced herself to hold perfectly still, while the adder's flickering tongue flashed out toward her, sensing, probing. She could actually feel it touching her nose and whiskers. If this were a true adder, it would have poison fangs that were quite lethal in their own right. But she was counting on one thing: that this snake had grown so dependent on its paralyzing sound that it would not use its deadly bite unless it absolutely had to. It wouldn't strike her if she didn't give it a reason to do so. She hoped.

The standoff held for many heartbeats, the cold reptile eyes and flashing tongue assessing the statuesque fox. Then, apparently satisfied that all was as it should be, the nightmare turned its attention to Cayenne.

Vodola jumped. Off to one side, in the opposite direction from that which the snake's head had turned. By the time the adder could react, Vodola rebounded and leapt back toward the serpent. Her perfectly timed leap put her atop the reptile, just behind the head - exactly where she wanted to be.

It tried to shake her off, but Vodola had expected that. Her hind limbs wrapped around the thick neck and dug into the scaly hide, keeping her astride the snake. That left her two forepaws, a shortsword in each one, free for the necessary task. Swinging her arms in wide arcs, she drove one blade into each eye, until their points met in the middle of the adder's brain.

She jumped off the serpent and rolled clear. Vodola knew enough about reptiles to know that this slain snake would likely thrash and writhe for some time; she would wait to retrieve her blades until things had quieted down. For now, she had to get Cayenne clear of the dying adder before it crushed the young otter.

Cayenne was still recovering from the snake's noise, so Vodola did most of the work in dragging her safely from the clearing and out of danger. Back amongst the trees, far enough from the adder that they could both breathe easily, Cayenne looked up into her savior's face.

"I'm thirsty after all that. Don't suppose you have a nice cool drink of water on you?"

But Vodola couldn't hear her. She had too much mud packed into her ears


	23. Chapter 23

"War Council"

(_Author's Note: You may notice that in the last scene and this one, I make a big deal about the mud Vodola packed in her ears to defeat the adder's hypnotizing sound. That's because I was leading in the votes for elimination for most of Week Four, and none too happy about it, to be perfectly honest. And I figured, if the readers would have the appalling bad taste to kill me off so early in the game, I would make them pay with a death scene so grisly it would give them nightmares and hopefully traumatize them for life. [Mwahaha!] To wit, my intention was for the mud Vodola shoved into her ear canals to have contained the parasitic Worms From Hell, tiny voracious little things that would burrow past her eardrums into her brain tissue, where they would have themselves a grand old feast and start multiplying at an alarming rate, even by parasitic worm standards. The climax would have had poor Vodie collapsing to the ground in front of her horrified shipmates, convulsing in her death throes as her brain turned to mush before their eyes and worm-infested blood gushed from her eyes and ears and perhaps several other orifices. No going off to die quietly alone for this vixen!_)

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The six of them stumbled back to the beach; it was an automatic reaction to return to their campsite, even if there really wasn't much left of it anymore.

Pyr seemed mildly miffed about being left alone for so long. "What took you so long?" she demanded of Vodola and Cayenne. "You were just going to get water!"

"Nothing ever goes as planned on this island," Vodola said rather loudly, due to the residual mud still in her ears. "That's why I didn't want to leave you alone, remember? What happened to you running if trouble showed up?"

"They came upon me too quickly," Pyr explained.

"Well, no harm done, is there?" Cayenne said, trying to smooth the waters between the two vixens. She proceeded to fill Pyr in on their encounter with the adder. "It must all have been very exciting - too bad I was conked out blowing bubbles in the spring while it was going on."

"Using the snake's scales like that was Cayenne's idea," said Vodola.

Pyr's eyebrows lifted in surprised approval; she hadn't pegged the playful young player as any kind of strategist. "Good thinking, Cayenne."

The six of them hastily gathered around on stumps and fallen trees for a council of war. "This still leaves the question of shelter unresolved," Vodola began, once they'd finished bringing Pyr fully up to date. "Tundra, Orlic and Vinklinar looked at several caves, but none seemed suitable. I think I know a place that might make a better camp for us."

"Do tell, lass," Tundra urged.

"Up on the plateau." Vodola turned to Pyr. "You remember it. Steep sides all around, except for where we came up through the tunnel. An enemy would have great difficulty scaling the sides of that plateau. That position would give us a clear view over most of the island, and would be very easy to defend."

"Wouldn't that put us right next to the volcano?" Vinklinar protested. "After the quake we just got, I think that thing might be ready to blow at any time ... "

Vodola shook her head. "The plateau was on its own mountain, apart from the volcano. We really weren't much closer to it there than we are now. And it's high enough so that we'd be above any lava flows the volcano spews out."

"Unless the lava blocks off the tunnel," said Orlic. "Then we'd be trapped up on the plateau."

"I think the tunnel's too high for that. We were going up an incline for awhile before we got to the lower entrance. Isn't that right, Pyr?"

Pyr seemed uncertain. "It was raining pretty hard, Vodola. I don't remember the terrain that well. But that plateau was all open, with no shelter at all. I wouldn't want to be there in another tropical downpour."

"We could take shelter in the tunnel itself in heavy rain. It's easily large enough to accommodate all of us, and we know it's not infested with bats or eels or lizards. Or rats, or Kali. It's even got steps we could sit on. And the soil in that area is so rich that there's plenty of fruit growing all around, just there for the picking. Moving there would solve our food and defense problems with one stroke."

"Worth considerin', I s'pose," Tundra mused.

"I thought the whole idea was to try and get off this island," Vinklinar said. "I don't see moving farther inland as a step in the right direction for that."

"Well, there is always that ship graveyard on the western shore," Pyr reminded them. "I for one would like to have a more thorough look at that place."

"Me too," seconded Tundra. "Mayhaps there's a vessel thereabouts that's not so bad off we couldn't patch 'er up an' make 'er seaworthy again."

"Nothing to say we can't do both," said Vodola. "Move our permanent camp to the plateau, and then send an expedition to investigate the shipwrecks."

"I don't think we should split up again if we don't have to," Pyr said. "Now that Athi's gone, we'd best stick together. Just look at what almost happened to me!"

Vodola shrugged. "I'm not trying to make myself leader or anything. I'm just throwing out ideas. But there's another night on its way while we're sitting here debating, and it's not going to wait on our pleasure." The vixen stood and started toward the tideline. "Discuss it among yourselves. I've got to try and wash the rest of this mud out of my ears. I swear I've lost half my hearing!"


	24. Chapter 24

"Fire on the Mountain"

"I will rule my fear. I will not let my fear rule me. I will rule my fear. I will not let my fear rule me ..."

Vodola stood near the edge of the plateau, her breathing fast and heavy as she surveyed the nearly-vertical cliffside falling away from her on three sides. Twilight was fast approaching, and the island spread out below shone dully in the last rays of the dying tropical sun. From this vantage it was possible to see the entire island, except for one region that was hidden behind the bulk of the volcanic pinnacle. That mist-and-smoke-shrouded peak, twice as tall as the plateau, stood some way off to the southeast ... far enough not to be oppressive, but not so far that it wasn't still a worry.

The three of them had gathered enough dry firewood to burn through the sultry night and dragged it through the jungle, up the tunnel and onto the plateau. Tundra now squatted in the middle of the elevated clearing, struggling to get the tinder to ignite. Cayenne ambled over to Vodola, and was surprised to find the vixen muttering to herself in the gathering twilight.

"What's that you say? Hope you're not going crazy on us, like Pyr did."

Cayenne wasn't trying for mischief, but the effect was the same as if she had; Vodola almost jumped out of her habit at the intrusion. She hastily stepped back from the precipice. "Don't do that again!" she angrily chastised the young otter.

"Hey, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Vodola swallowed, licking at dry lips. "I'm ... I'm afraid of heights."

Cayenne looked at her cockeyed. "But it was your idea to come up here and make this our new camp," she reminded the fox.

Vodola nodded. "Because I thought it would be the most secure place for us - not because it would be the most comfortable for me. I still think it's the right decision. It just won't be that easy for me."

"Well, do stay away from the edge, then, and you should be all right." Cayenne stepped right over to the very lip of the plateau, gazing down, as Vodola's stomach did cartwheels. "I'm no squirrel, but heights never bothered me much. Even did some acrobatics in some of my early performances."

"Um, would you mind stepping away from there?"

Cayenne saw how nervous she was making Vodola, and complied. "Oh, sure. Since you saved me from that horrible snakey. That must not have been any picnic for you either, being way up on top of the thing's head ... "

"Wasn't high enough to get my acrophobia started. Even that tree I climbed on the beach was something I could handle, once I'd put myself in the right frame of mind. But this ... " Vodola swept a paw out toward the darkening landscape below. "Being this high up is enough to really get to me."

"Really? But it's not like it's a sheer drop all the way down. There's a bit of a slope to it ... "

"But not much. Which is why I think this site is the best place for us to be."

"Hope you're right about that." The two of them wandered over to Tundra. The aged otter had succeeded in starting the fire, and sat fanning the kindling into a respectable blaze.

"I know we c'n use the fire fer cookin' an' torches t' defend ourselves," Tundra said, "but this light'll be visible all across the isle from up 'ere. Hope it doesn't attract any unwanted comp'ny."

"Maybe not," said Vodola. "Pyr and I didn't know this plateau was here until after we'd climbed up through the tunnel. Most of the island's covered by thick trees, which would make it hard to see up here from the ground."

"And if it is seen," added Cayenne, "at least it'll serve as a beacon for the others to find their way back here. Wonder what's taking them so long?"


	25. Chapter 25

(_Author's Note: At this point in the story, at the end of Week Four after Orlic's death [that unfortunate vixen took a native rat's slingstone to the back of the head, poor dear], the ROC:S Coordinator Roxie threw us remaining five contestants a major curve ball: As a consolation prize for being the first player voted off, Levet's author was allowed to make a surprise post, throwing the rest of us off. Levet's post had all of us suddenly and mysteriously on a ship without any explanation, sailing away from the island. My fellow players howled, convinced that the site had somehow been hacked, but I reacted by immediately composing and posting the following installment to explain Levet's unexpected reappearance and put the story back on track._)

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"Only a Dream?"

Vodola sat up, the humid night silent and still around her. The usual tropical nighttime background noise of uncountable insects was absent, creating an eerie hush over the plateau. Into the darkness, Vodola said, "I just had the strangest dream ... "

She didn't think anybeast else would be awake to hear her soft utterance, but Tundra answered her immediately. "Aye, me too ... "

"About Levet," Cayenne said at nearly the same time.

Vodola got up and walked over to the two otters. "We all had the same dream?" She was incredulous. And yet ...

"We were on a ship," Cayenne said, "heading off the island. We'd gotten safely past the reef, and the volcano had blown ... "

Tundra nodded, her silvery head visible in the moonlight. "He said I'd know th' weather, 'fore it even happened ... "

"And that I'd sniff trouble, before it came," picked up Cayenne.

"And I'll be able to see two days' march away," said Vodola. "But this is preposterous! We can't all have had the same dream!"

"But we just did," Cayenne pointed out.

"Don't know what it means," Tundra sighed, "but a sign like this's not t' be ignored."

The sound of pawsteps echoed from the tunnel leading up to the plateau. Vinklinar and Pyr emerged into the moonlight. Seeing that the others were already awake, Pyr said, "Something very strange just happened to us down there. I know Vink and I were supposed to be on sentry duty, but we must have both dozed off - how I can't explain. But we both woke up just now from a dream .. and we'd had the same one!"

"Was it about Levet?" Vodola asked, dreading the answer.

"How did you know?" Vinklinar gasped in surprise.

"We all had it too," Cayenne told him.

For long moments the five surviving castaways stood or sat in silence, digesting this uncanny turn of events. At last Cayenne broke the silence. "Levet's ghost came to us. That's the only explanation. We couldn't all have had the same dream unless somebeast gave it to us."

"I don't believe in ghosts," Vodola stated stubbornly.

"Then how d'you explain this?" Tundra asked.

"I can't." Vodola rose and crossed to the tunnel entrance. "The only thing I know for sure is that I'm certainly not going to be able to get any more sleep tonight. Cayenne, let's go down and take our turn at guarding the tunnel. Pyr and Vink have done their shift ... even if they did nap during part of it!"


	26. Chapter 26

"Enter the Basilisk"

Vodola stretched her weary muscles as the coming dawn set aglow the jungle mists. She and Cayenne had stood the remainder of the night's watch down at the lower tunnel entrance, neither one the least bit inclined to doze off after the weird shared dream they'd experienced. Now, as the darkness slowly brightened into the silvery morning sheen of pre-dawn, it was time to go up and join their fellows.

"I'll gather some fruit for breakfast," Cayenne volunteered. "I'll catch up with you."

Vodola was surprised at the young otter's statement, and shook her head. "It's bad enough that we're split between the two of us down here and the other three up on the plateau. I'm not leaving you alone. Remember what the dream said about not splitting up ... "

"Thought you didn't believe in the dream," Cayenne grinned roguishly.

"I don't believe in ghosts. That dream was quite real, since we all could describe it. And there was some good common sense in it, even if I can't explain how it happened. So, I'll help you with the fruit, and then we'll go up together."

A short time later, with their paws full of several varieties of sweet edibles, the two ascended the stone steps of the long tunnel. Vodola was in the lead, and froze at the sight that greeted her when she stepped out onto the plateau.

A lizard was crouched over Vinklinar.

Vodola dropped her armful of fruit and whipped out her twin blades. The lizard's head snapped up at her arrival, even as Vink came awake and pawed at the sharp, curving reptile claws setting upon his chest.

It was not like any lizard Vodola had ever seen before. It was not a huge cumbersome brute like the ones that had killed Levet, nor was it brawny and slow like the monitors which were sometimes seen in the lands or on ships. This creature was elegant and lithe, its slender body and long tail almost whiplike in design. And the way it had moved its head and focused its eyes on her suggested the quickness of a bird. There was an intelligence in those eyes as they studied Vodola, something that told her this lizard regarded her as an equal.

"Whoooooaaaaagh!" Vinklinar began to cry out as he emerged from his slumbers and saw the menacing form poised over him.

Tundra and Pyr were up in a flash - but the intruder was gone in half that time, spinning away from Vinklinar and dashing toward the edge of the plateau. It didn't even slow down near the rim, and Vodola's stomach gave a tiny twist as she watched it vanish over the side.

They all rushed forward. The unknown lizard, its shiny green scales glittering like a coat of emeralds in the dawn's first rays, raced down the steep slope as if it were flat ground, not bothered or impeded by the incline at all. Within moments it had vanished into the greenery at the base of the plateau, leaving no trace of its intrusion.

The castaways had finally been granted a glimpse of one of the true masters of the island.

"Still think those were sandpiper tracks we saw on the beach, Pyr?" Vodola asked her fellow vixen.

"One thing's fer shore," commented Tundra. "This flattop ain't as safe 'n' sound as we thought it was."


	27. Chapter 27

"Run Through the Jungle"

Vodola's breath came in ragged, rasping pants as she, Pyr and Cayenne raced through the jungle to get to the beach. By the fur, why was it taking so long? But she already knew the answer to that: by relocating their camp to the plateau, they'd put themselves almost at the center of the island. It would be a long run to the beach, even if they didn't get lost. All those precious minutes ... could they really expect to reach the shore in time to do Tundra and Vinklinar any possible good?

This rational argument didn't matter to her at that moment. She simply ran, ran as she had never run before, heedless of the branches lashing her face and the rough ground torturing her bare footpaws, hoping against hope that there would be some way to defy the odds and give assistance to her two companions. And Cayenne and Pyr ran right with her, similar thoughts or very different ones racing through their own minds.

Before departing, Tundra had swum out to the reefs, mentally noting the gaps in the dangerous barrier through which they might pass unhindered. From the beach Pyr, Cayenne and Vodola had watched the tiny craft bear their two fellows safely past the treacherous shoals and out onto the supposed safety of the open sea. It should have been all right after that. Tundra and Vinklinar should have been safe, from the reef if not from the hazards of the open ocean.

But neither Tundra nor any of the others had counted on the storm. These unanticipated gusts and currents had caught their tiny vessel and carried it back toward the island, toward the reefs. Was there any hope for them now? And Levet had told them in their shared dream that Tundra would be able to know the weather a day in advance. So much for that bit of prophecy ...

Vinklinar had been disturbed by his close encounter with the strange lizard, and had insisted that he and Tundra be off the island by midday. Vodola herself wasn't so sure that the agile lizard had posed any danger. When confronted, it fled rather than attack, and it had seemed more to be investigating Vink than threatening him. And there was evidence that it (or others of its kind) had been similarly observing her and Pyr during their night under the wrecked hull. Perhaps these reptiles were more curious than hostile. In which case, they might prove a source of help rather than an enemy.

Vodola kept telling herself that she wasn't resentful of Tundra and Vinklinar winning the chance to get off this island. Well, she was resentful - not of her two friends, but that so important a decision had been left to a game of chance. Realistically, she'd known that the two who went to sea in so small a craft would face dangers every bit as dire as the ones on the island, and that she herself would not have been the best suited for such a voyage. But the exclusion still stung. She didn't want it to, but it did.

All of which meant nothing to her now as she raced through the forest. Her friends were in trouble and that was all that mattered ...

Orlic had been stung by losing the lottery too. The others might be denying it, but to Vodola it was obvious when they found Orlic's body that the older vixen had been leaving them. She'd had her pack with her; she hadn't been stepping out to gather fruit or investigate something, but had meant to leave their company altogether. _Could I have done something like that?_ Vodola asked herself. She didn't think so. Painful as her loss to the dice had been, she would stick to Pyr and Cayenne - and to Vink and Tundra - like glue. Because that was what friends did. Because their survival depended on it.

At last - at very long last - the three of them broke through the trees onto the wave-pounded beach. At first the angry sea showed them nothing but the fury of its wind-whipped waters, as wall after wall of the dark green brine broke against the shore. But then, as their eyes searched the heaving waters ...


	28. Chapter 28

"And Then There Were Four"

Vodola watched as Cayenne moved toward the small vessel. "Are we sure Tundra's really gone?" The vixen was visibly shaken by this latest turn of events.

Cayenne nodded with certainty as she strode toward her new project that she'd christened the Indigo. "I saw her swim out, and she never swam back in again. Yes, she's gone."

Vodola's paws clenched into fists at her sides. "But why would she do such a thing? Didn't she realize how much we needed her?"

"She was old," the otter player said. "This island was just too much for her. Getting tossed about by that storm must've been the last straw. She was never quite the same once we rescued her. I could tell. I didn't think she'd go and do something like this, but ... she was different somehow. Resigned. Like she was ready to give up. I thought I'd lifted her spirits last night when I sang to her, but I guess it was too little, too late."

Vodola sank onto her haunches and buried her face in her paws. No, this could not be happening. It was like Ciarnait all over again, except ... except that Vodola had never felt any closeness to the ferret lady. She had, in fact, viewed Ciarnait as a source of possible danger from within their own ranks whose treachery could jeopardize them all. When Ciarnait had given herself to the sea, Vodola had felt almost as if a problem had been solved, and did not grieve for the ferret, however disturbing her fate had been.

But this ... this was Tundra, for fur's sake! Tundra the old, Tundra the wise, Tundra who had never done harm to anybeast who didn't deserve it, and who had no doubt done incalculable good throughout her life. The only strong swimmer they had, since Cayenne's leg was still not fully healed, and a strong set of paws to have at their side in a fight.

Tundra her friend.

"I don't care if she was old!" Vodola shouted. "I don't care if she was tired! She was one of us! We depended on her! She had no right to leave us like this! She had no right!"

Vinklinar came over and laid a comforting paw on Vodola's heaving shoulders. "I know ... I sorta feel the same way myself. But Tundra deserves better than for us to be talking about her this way. She's gone, and all we can do is honor her memory and respect what she was."

The distraught vixen shook him off and rose from the sand, stalking away from the others and walking around in circles by herself. Vinklinar and Pyr regarded her with concern.

"Do you think we're gonna lose her too?" the young weasel asked with trepidation.

"I don't know," Pyr replied. "But I think she values her own life too much to ever contemplate doing what Tundra did, and that's why she's having trouble accepting this. I'm having some trouble with it myself. But the plain fact is, there are only four of us now. And I think Cayenne has the right idea. We should try to fix one of these boats and get off this island as soon as we possibly can."

Vinklinar gazed uneasily out toward sea. "After what happened with the lifeboat?"

"A larger craft won't be so easily blown back toward the island," said Pyr. "And thanks to Tundra we know where there are gaps in the reef so we can pass safely. Let's face it, Vink - if we stay, we'll all end up like Tundra or Orlic."

Vinklinar nodded. "I guess you're right."

Pyr walked over to where her fellow vixen still silently raged against fate and circumstances. "Vink and I are going back to the plateau to gather everything useful and bring it here - that site wasn't as safe as we thought it was. You stay here with Cayenne in case any trouble comes along. This will be our new camp from now on. We'll stay here until we get the Indigo seaworthy ... and then we'll leave this accursed island just as fast as we can!"


	29. Chapter 29

"Bookends"

It was the second morning after Tundra's departure, and the work of refurbishing the Indigo was proceeding apace. Cayenne, Pyr and Vinklinar knew just enough about boatbuilding between the three of them to have a reasonable idea of what they were doing. Enough pitch had been scraped from the other wrecks to yield a couple of potfuls of the black tar; one batch now bubbled over a fire in an iron cauldron they'd scavenged. Nails they had aplenty, although the challenge was finding ones that weren't so rusty that they'd break when hammered with a rock. A variety of fronds and leaves would make do for brushing and spreading the thick pitch wherever it was needed, and the myriad of shattered ships littering the western shore provided them with all the planking and lumber they could possibly ask for.

Vodola lent a paw when asked, but spent most of her time sitting apart from the others, withdrawn and morose. Her three companions shot worried glances her way, but were too engrossed in their labor to pay the troubled vixen much attention. As long as she didn't throw a fit or run off into the jungle or try to harm herself or the others, they were content to let her be.

Vodola reached into her inner pocket and pulled out the poisoners' pawbook. The heavy volume had been with her all this time, weighing down the left side of her increasingly tattered habit through all the fights and rain and mad dashes and sadness; she'd barely given it a thought since Athi had died. Maybe that was why. The recipe for the poison that had killed the badger had come right from these pages.

Vodola slowly flipped through the book, eyes running up and down each page. She'd never really read it before, not carefully, just enough to see that it had been nearly identical to her original copy that Levet had burned. Now she studied it in earnest, examining the text and the writing, the paper quality and the penbeastship. Yes, this was definitely the work of a Maulseed vixen, of that there could be no doubt. Where could it have come from? What was it doing on this island with them?

She got to the last page, and was about to close the covers when her pawtip caught on an anomaly of the page edges. She leaned down to examine it more closely. The last two sheets were stuck together - not accidentally, but by some very clever design that joined them at their edges by means of a subtle fold; nobeast who was not looking for it would be likely to notice the extra page there at the back. Vodola delicately separated them with her claw, then read the message scrawled on that hidden page.

Then she read it again.

Pyr strolled over to her. "Hey, Vodola, we could use a paw with some of that lumber. Cayenne's getting tired and needs a rest, and we thought you could spell her for awhile so we can keep working. Hello, Vodola? Are you listening?"

Vodola looked up at her fellow vixen. "Pyr, what was the name of your cousin? The one you thought might have been behind the wreck of the Star Song?"

"Huh? I think you mean Rilander Castanel - the other noble who had a claim to the throne. Why do you ask?"

"Because there's a secret message addressed to him in the back of this book."


	30. Chapter 30

"The Threat"

The other three sat in silence as Vodola finished reading aloud the secret message. She was the only one who could read it, since it was written in the same arcane foxscript as the rest of the book; not even Pyr could decipher it.

"An alliance between Canto Attia and your school?" Pyr questioned Vodola. "Why would Rilander seek an alliance with a school?"

"Because," Vodola forced out the admission, "it is a school that trains warriors, assassins, spies and generals in the Redwall way."

"The Redwall way?" Pyr and Vinklinar exclaimed as one. The young weasel went on to say, "That makes no sense! Redwall has always been devoted to peace!"

"Lord Maulseed built his academy based on Redwall," Vodola explained. "He thought that there must be some reason why Redwall had never fallen to an enemy, so he founded a school that would train vermin in the same way as that Abbey trains its novices - by developing their minds as well as their bodies. It was an attempt to produce a superior class of so-called vermin ... one that would someday be able to conquer Redwall." She lowered her head, not meeting any of the others' gazes. "My training was in poisons and assassination."

"And your book?" Cayenne queried, after several moments of silence.

"My poisoner's pawbook," Vodola said softly, still not looking any of her companions in the eye. "Very valuable, one of only a few in existence. If I'd returned to Maulseed without it, I'd have been beaten, and probably expelled. Even if Jerreaun hadn't wanted me out of the way permanently."

"Getting expelled from a place like that would pro'bly be the best thing that could happen to you," Vinklinar said unsympathetically. "But I don't see how any of this matters now. We're far from Canto Attia, and from Maulseed, wherever that is. And we're not likely to see either one of those places unless we can get off this island alive. We've got a lot more to worry about that this conspiracy."

"Don't you get it?" Pyr said to him. "The Star Song crashed because they were trying to kill me! Even if I get off this island, I dare not announce myself anyplace I might be recognized, because Rilander wants me dead!"

"It's more than that," said Vodola, finally raising her head. "Perhaps I have not explained clearly enough what Maulseed is all about. You've all seen how well I can fight, how I can handle myself in crisis situations. I assure you, I am not the most accomplished student at that school. If the full potential of Maulseed were unleashed upon the lands, with the backing of a power like Canto Attia, Redwall and all of Mossflower would surely fall!"

Cayenne gulped. "They're ... that good?"

Vodola nodded. "And this alliance is already well along. Not only did headmistress Jerreaun sign this message to Rilander, but it was in Maulseed foxscript ... which could only mean there was another Maulseed vixen waiting to receive this book in Canto Attia. There was no other vixen aboard the Star Song, and only vixens are versed in this language."

"Could ... could it have been Orlic?" Pyr wondered.

"I doubt it," said Vodola. "She seemed too honest and decent. Besides, this message names Ciarnait as Rilander's agent. She must have had a means to come and go from her cell without raising attention."

"But why are you so upset?" Vink asked bitterly, surprised and disappointed by this revelation about the foxmaid he'd befriended. "Isn't this what you want?"

"No. Not anymore. Being on this island has made me question my training as I never had before. I'd already decided that, if I were to get back to the mainland, I would not have returned to Maulseed. I might even have tried to go to Redwall, and warn them about that threat. And now," she held up the book, "they need to be warned more than ever."


	31. Chapter 31

"Territories"

It wasn't so much an attack as an incursion.

Vodola was the first to notice the lizards emerging from the trees. "Um, everybeast?" she called out loudly. "We've got visitors."

The basilisks formed themselves into a line stretching along the boundary between jungle and beach. There were about a score of them, and they carried no recognizable weapons - no blades or spears or slings or rocks. For many long moments they simply stood in their loose formation, studying the castaways ... which gave Vinklinar, Cayenne and Pyr plenty of time to rally to Vodola's side, their own blades drawn and at the ready.

"Think they remember that I killed one of them," Vinklinar wondered, "and now they've come to settle the score?" The weasel's breathing grew fast and shallow, and the others wondered whether he was going into another of his Bloodwrath-like rages. Such fierceness might come in handy now, if this score of lizards pressed an attack.

"If they have, they'll have to settle with all of us," Vodola said through gritted teeth.

The lizards came forward then - not in a headlong assault, but slowly, as if approaching acquaintances. The four castaways brandished their weapons, not knowing what to expect. The leading lizard stepped right up to Pyr, reached around her upheld dagger - these basilisks were extremely swift and adroit with their movements - and grabbed hold of her arm with its sharp, curving claws. She shook it off but it continued to grab at her, effectively dodging her dagger thrusts. The reptile was not particularly strong, and she was repeatedly able to dislodge its grip. After the third or fourth time it almost became funny ...

Almost. But there were others now reaching for Vink, Vodola and Caynenne in the same fashion. Vinklinar cut the air menacingly with his sabre, and the lizard confronting him retreated.

"Don't slay them!" Vodola yelled to Vink as she chased her own assailant away with her twin shortswords. "They may not be trying to harm us. Let's see if we can figure out what they want."

Vinklinar reluctantly refrained from going after the lizards, although it was plain in his eyes that he wished to do just that. Vodola became their guinea pig, sheathing her swords and allowing her lizard to fully grasp her while her three companions stood at the ready to come to her aid at a moment's notice.

As she'd suspected, the reptile did not try to harm Vodola but merely led her down the beach a few dozen yards, until she was clear of the shipwrecks. The other castaways shadowed her closely, not willing to let Vodola be taken too far from them.

The lizard released Vodola and walked back the way it had come. Another of the lizards reached for Pyr. "Don't fight!" Vodola instructed. "Let's see what it does ... "

Unsurprisingly, Pyr's lizard escorted her farther down the beach until she was standing alongside Vodola. The same ritual was repeated with Cayenne and Vinklinar, although the weasel bristled at the basilisk's touch.

Then, the entire troop of lizards formed another line, this one stretching across the beach from the tideline to the forest fringes, blocking the castaways from the ships ... including the Indigo. The message was quite clear.

"Looks like we've just been evicted," Caynenne wryly observed.

"They're trying to tell us this is their territory," said Vodola. "I should have guessed something like this might happen. This was the first place where we ever saw their tracks, after all."

"At least they weren't violent about it," Pyr said thankfully. "Although, if I go the rest of my life without feeling one of their scaly claws on my body, I'll be quite happy."

"They don't seem to be hostile," Cayenne agreed. "But we can't abandon the Indigo ... we're almost finished repairing it! What are we going to do now?"

The four of them stood there in the morning sun, debating their next move.


	32. Chapter 32

"The Rat in the Forest"

Vodola stalked through the tropical forest, one shortsword held ready in her paw. She wasn't wild about the idea of going off alone to scavenge for food, since splitting up had led to no small amount of trouble for the castaways in the past. But they needed food, and Pyr had to stay with Cayenne, and Vinklinar ... well, Vodola didn't know what had come over her weasel friend of late, but she was almost relieved to be away from him for awhile.

She tried to stay as close to the beach as she could, for safety's sake. They were having enough problems at the moment without her adding to them. All they would need would be for her to get captured, injured or killed by one of this island's many dangers.

Vodola caught herself in mid-thought. She was actually thinking of her own possible death in terms of how it would affect them all, not what a tragedy it would be for her personally. This drove home to her how much she had changed since being shipwrecked. Her own well-being had always been her paramount concern. It would have been inconceivable for her to place the welfare of her group above her own safety. But not anymore ...

She was almost tempted to try to track the lizards who'd stolen her book, to see if she could retrieve it. Almost, but not quite. They had yet to figure out where the basilisks maintained their lair; that volume could be on the other side of the island by now. And those lizards moved with such grace that they would leave few if any traces of their passage through this dense growth. Such a solitary expedition would only be inviting trouble. Ever since the discovery of the secret message, Vodola had come to regard the pawbook as community property, since it now bound them together in a single purpose unlike any they'd had before. Its loss was not devastating. Yes, she would like to have it back if she could, but it was not worth risking her life over.

Vodola came to a small grove of trees which were dropping nuts onto the ground. She'd not seen these before, and nuts would make a pleasant change from all the fruit which made up most of their diet. She stooped to gather several pocketfuls.

A racket broke out from the underbrush a short way away. Vodola held up her shortsword, her free paw reaching for her second blade. She remained crouched, partially camouflaged by the growth around her.

One of the rat savages came rushing by on the very trail she'd used herself moments before. He had a look of panic on his face, and did not seem to notice the vixen as he raced right past her.

Vodola had all but forgotten about the rats in the wake of everything that had been happening with the basilisks. She'd seriously thought that Vinklinar might have slain them all in his mad rage, or that only a few might be left. She had to remind herself that Orlic had met her end from a single rock flung by a single rat's sling. They were still a danger, even if there might only be a few of them left.

She watched the rodent retreat for several moments, disappearing into the jungle, then was about to resume her gathering of nuts when something totally unexpected happened. A crude net dropped from the trees and swept up the rat, lifting him effortlessly off his paws and into the trees above. Vodola knelt stock still. One or two muffled cries were heard from the surprised rat, and then ... nothing. An unearthly stillness settled over the jungle, as if something crucial had just occurred.

That rat had been at least as big as she was, and probably bigger. What could sweep him up so easily? Vodola was almost afraid to look up to see if something might be lurking in the branches overhead. Her grip tight on her blade, she collected one last pawful of nuts and retreated from the spot as unobtrusively as she could, in the opposite direction from where the rat had been captured by his unseen hunters.

This was the last time she'd come into this jungle alone if she could help it.


	33. Chapter 33

"Runaway Weasel"

Vodola was nearly at the beach when she heard a gruff cry and a crashing into the underbrush ahead and to her right. She saw Vinklinar break through the growth, yelling angrily and incoherently at nobeast in particular and waving his sabre before him. His eyes were filled with the same blind rage as when he'd slain the rats; he didn't appear to see her at all. Vodola made no attempt to stop him or speak to the young weasel, but instead continued fully out onto the beach.

Pyr came running toward her, apparently chasing after their wayward companion. "Vink's lost it again, huh?" Vodola guessed.

"We've got to go after him!" Pyr cried in alarm and concern.

"No, we don't," Vodola said firmly, stepping in front of her fellow vixen to block Pyr's way. "You saw that look on his face just now ... or if you didn't, trust me, he's in no condition to listen to reason right now. Why, what was it that set him off?"

"He ... he was talking about how he'd been mistreated as a youngbeast, how nobeast respected him, and then about how he was mad at this island for taking away the new friends he's made here ... "

"Well, he is mad, all right. You must know how he feels, a little, since you went a bit mad yourself when you tried to kill us both under the boat during the storm. Or perhaps I should say nuts. Speaking of which ... " Vodola pulled out a pawful of the nuts she'd foraged from the jungle. "These should be good for a change. We haven't had any of these before."

Pyr looked at her askance. "How can you think about food when our only malebeast and strongest fighter just ran into the wilds of this island in a fit of insanity?"

"Very easily. We need food to survive, and if we get in the way of Vink when he's having one of his bloodwrath-type fits, he's as likely to cut us down as he would an enemy. Besides, there's something else you need to know about ... "

Vodola proceeded to tell Pyr about the rat she'd seen netted up into the trees.

Pyr digested this news. "What in the name of fur do you suppose that was all about?"

"Can't say," Vodola shrugged. "Maybe it was the basilisks, maybe it was something else we haven't seen yet."

"Well, if there's yet another danger on this island, that's all the more reason to go after Vink!"

Vodola shook her head. "Believe me, whatever it was that captured that rat, they weren't looking for a fight. Something tells me that they'll scatter pretty fast if they see Vink coming their way, waving his sword about him like that. At least they will if they know what's good for them."


	34. Chapter 34

"School Days"

(_Author's Note: "School Days" was my original working title for "The Answer." Can't let a perfectly good title go to waste, wot?_)

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While Pyr worked with Vinklinar on one side of their shelter, Vodola and Cayenne sat away from them, not wanting to intrude upon the concentration-intensive meditation exercises.

Vodola caught the young otter giving her a funny look - funny even by Cayenne's standards. "What?"

"I've never been friends with an assassin before. It's quite exciting, actually."

"I was training as an assassin," Vodola corrected, rather standoffishly. "I've never actually killed anybeast. At least, not until I got to this furforsaken place."

"Oh, snakes and lizards don't count," Cayenne said breezily. "They're not real beasts - not like you and me."

"No, I guess not," Vodola shrugged. "And it was in self defense."

"You did a really good job on that adder," said Cayenne. "Too bad I wasn't awake to see it. So, what are some of the ways you learned how to kill beasts?"

Vodola scowled. "This isn't anything to joke about."

"I'm not joking. I really want to know."

Vodola studied Cayenne. The otter seemed frivolous about the entire matter, in spite of her bandaged face and the discomfort she must be in. But then, Cayenne was always that way about pretty much everything.

"Okay. Here's one way." Vodola untied her habit cord and removed it from around her waist. She held it up between her paws. "Just a plain old terrycloth habit belt, right?"

Cayenne nodded. "That's what I'd call it."

Vodola fiddled with one end of the cord for a moment, then withdrew the flexible steel wire that ran through the cord. "Garroting wire," she explained. "Effective inside the belt or out. Every student at Maulseed carries one of these."

Cayenne's eyebrows went up. "Niiiice. Must be loads of fun at that school of yours. What was it like there?"

"A lot like Redwall, I imagine, only ... more sinister." Vodola began reinserting the strangling wire into its cloth hiding place. "Everyday we'd get up, get washed and have breakfast, have classes and training before lunch, then more classes and training, then supper and chores. We'd fall into bed exhausted, then get up next morning and do it all again." She finished fixing her belt and looked at Cayenne. "Funny thing is, I never realized how twisted it was until I started traveling and meeting other beasts ... and I never even would have been allowed to leave Maulseed on sabbatical if Headmistress Jerreaun hadn't wanted me out of the way. So, she's responsible for turning me against my own home."

"Like to think we had a little something to do with that," Cayenne grinned. "Never underestimate the power of friendships."

"I had friends at Maulseed too," Vodola said sullenly. "Even if we get off this island, I don't think I'll ever be seeing any of them again. Or, if I do, it might be on the battlefield ... on the opposing side."


	35. Chapter 35

"Closeness"

Vodola was having a hellish night.

She was exhausted. Vinklinar's sacrifice had drained her emotionally, and she had turned to the hard labor of refurbishing the Indigo as a retreat from that pain. But now, with the unending drone of nighttime insect buzz in her ears and the stars twinkling in the tropical sky above, she could not sleep. Every fiber of her being ached, with Vink's loss and with the physical strain of the punishing pace she'd set for herself as she and the others worked on the boat. But sleep would not come to soothe her troubled mind, to deliver her to the blissful realm where she would not have to think, or feel.

She began sobbing, though her eyes remained dry. Her chest heaved with staccato convulsions, breath rasping in a raw throat, and she started pounding the sand at her sides with balled paws. She felt as if the very fabric of herself was becoming unwound, that the vixen known as Vodola was shattering into a thousand sharp and disjointed pieces.

She must have been making a spectacle of herself, because she became aware that Cayenne and Pyr were kneeling over her. They'd left a low fire burning outside their awning in case they needed flame to drive away an enemy, and in that dim, flickering illumination Vodola could plainly see the unmistakable concern etched on the faces of her two companions.

She sat up on the sand, staring at them for several moments. Nobeast spoke. Then Vodola took them both in a shared embrace, squeezing them to her so hard that she was surely raising bruises under their fur. Otter and vixen returned her hug without complaint.

"It's all ... " she started to say, then choked as the tears came and flowed freely down her cheeks. "The headmistress of the only home I've ever known wants me dead, and all the new friends I've made here are being taken away from me, one by one! I'm as miserable a beast as Levet or Ciarnait ever were! Worse, because I thought I was so much better than they were. There's not another creature I can depend on or call a friend, save the two of you. I don't want you to go away too! Please don't go away!"

"We won't," Pyr promised softly.

"Aye," Cayenne whispered, "we're getting outta this together, count on it!"

Vodola maintained her tight grip on her only two friends for awhile, absorbing their comforting pats and wishing fervently in her heart that this moment of closeness could last forever, that she and Cayenne and Pyr would never be parted again in this life. At last she relaxed and pulled away from them.

"Get some sleep," Pyr encouraged her. "We've another full day of work on the Indigo ahead of us tomorrow ... and then, hopefully, we'll be ready to leave this place. Together."

Vodola lay back down onto the sand, sniffling and wiping a paw across her snout. Within moments she was fast asleep, under the watchful gazes of two who genuinely cared about her.

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Cayenne awoke at the first stirrings of dawn, long before the sun had risen. Looking about their shelter she saw Pyr still slumbering peacefully ... but Vodola was gone. In the depression where she'd slept lay her soiled and tattered green habit, rumpled into a pile, and her two sheathed shortswords. The young otter's stomach fell to her legs, as she feared the worst.

But then she glanced up and saw Vodola standing a short way down the beach, unclothed, staring into the jungle. Moving quietly so as not to disturb Pyr, Cayenne arose and padded across the cool sand to join Vodola.

"Thinking 'bout goin' skinny-dipping?" the otter said lightly, referring to the vixen's natural state.

"I feel empty inside," Vodola said without emotion. "In my head I know it's vitally important that we escape from this island and warn the goodbeasts of Redwall and Mossflower about the danger of Maulseed and Canto Attia. I know I should be consumed with bitterness at the treachery that's cost me the only home I've ever had. But I can't feel anything. I'm not sure I want to anymore."

Cayenne studied the distraught vixen for a moment, then stepped forward and took Vodola in another hug like the one they'd shared the night before. After several heartbeats, the vixen returned the embrace.

"Feel that," the otter said, then drew back and looked Vodola in the eye. "And remember it. I made a promise to you last night. I'm not gonna leave you ... so don't you go leaving us! We're in this together, to the very end ... wherever that takes us."

"Thank you," Vodola said, the faintest traces of a sad smile lifting her lips.

"Now, go make yourself decent, you hussy, while I whip up some breakfast!


	36. Chapter 36

"Blowgun's Run"

_(Author's Note: After crafting a spectacular death scene for his character, Vinklinar's writer requested that we remaining three contestants make no more references to the basilisk lizards, the implication being that Vink had totally wiped them out in his final blaze of glory. Normally I would have had no problem honoring such a request, but unfortunately Vink never consulted with us before posting his death scene, and since I was the one who'd introduced the basilisks into the story in the first place - and since there was still a possibility I might need them for my own death scene in the event that Vodola was to meet her end - I was forced to violate Vink's wishes. [Turned out I never did need them for my death scene ... but I did write it, as you will see later on ... ] Sorry, Vink!_)

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As the three of them stood admiring the nearly-finished Indigo and the glorious tropical sunset over the shimmering sea, something made Vodola turn around and look behind them. "Uh-oh," she muttered. "We've got company again."

Pyr and Cayenne turned to see for themselves that another group of the basilisks stood among the trees at the jungle's edge, studying the three mammals. For the moment they made no move forward, but a sense of anticipation was in their attitudes. It was almost like a replay of the earlier occasion when the lizards had turned out to evict the castaways from this section of the beach.

Pyr made a face. "Ungh. I was hoping Vink had slain them all."

"Unless those're ghosts," Cayenne said, "I'd say a few got away."

"A few dozen, by the look of it," Vodola nodded. "And they sure don't look like ghosts to me."

A couple of the basilisks stepped forward and started toward the three companions. "Think they're gonna try and force us away again?" Cayenne speculated nervously.

"I'll be sent to Hellsgates before I'll stand by and let that happen!" Vodola spat, drawing both her shortswords and rushing toward the lizards, shouting and screaming an incoherent battle cry. Cayenne and Pyr tensed to join her, in case the vixen needed their aid.

It wasn't necessary. When the two-lizard vanguard saw Vodola rushing recklessly at them with her blades drawn and twirling about her head, they immediately retreated to the tree line to rejoin their fellows. Vodola stopped and called back over her shoulder, "I don't think they'll bother us. After what Vink did to them, they have no way of knowing whether any of the rest of us might be able to wreak similar havoc among them."

"Hope you're right," Cayenne called ahead to her.

Vodola faced forward once more just in time to feel a light thunk! against her left breast. She saw one of the basilisks lowering a long straight reed from its mouth. Looking down, she saw a tiny feathered dart sticking from the green fabric of her habit. Not stopping to pluck it out, she spun and ran back toward Cayenne and Pyr as fast as she could.

"Everybeast, into the Indigo!" she shouted. "They're shooting at us!" Behind her, several more of the lizards had raised hollow reeds to their scaly lips and aimed them at their adversaries.

Pyr and Cayenne needed no second bidding to do as they were told. Waiting just long enough for Vodola to draw abreast of them, they turned and ran up the gangplank, onto the Indigo and belowdecks.

"Cayenne, get that hatch shut and barred! Pyr, get this dart out of my backside!" Vodola flopped down on her belly, and her two friends could see the ornate feathered dart protruding from her tail end.

Cayenne slammed the hatchway closed and locked it, while Pyr withdrew the dart. The healer vixen sniffed its pointed tip; it smelled mediciny, not like poison. "Are you hit anywhere else, Vodola?"

Vodola rolled over onto her back. The first dart still stood where it had impacted in her left breast ... or rather, into the book which she had replaced in her pocket there once they'd finished their day's work on the Indigo and realized they were nearly ready to sail. Vodola had decided to keep the book on her until their departure - a move that now might very well have saved her life, or at the very least kept her from being taken prisoner by the basilisks. The dart in her buttocks, which had found flesh beneath her habit, was enough to make her woozy, even though Pyr had hastily extracted it.

Overhead came the sound of claws clambering over the deck. Scratching and pounding came from the sealed hatchway, but the door was solid and held against their blows and fumblings.

"What do we do now?" Cayenne worried. "They'll tear the sails and wreck the mast again! Maybe even hole the hull ... "

"Maybe not," Vodola said drowsily. "They want to get at us, not destroy the boat. But I don't think they'll be able to get in. As long as they don't set the Indigo on fire ... " And with that, Vodola's eyes fell closed and she passed out


	37. Chapter 37

"Padding the Matter"

When she was sure all the basilisks were gone, Pyr dragged Cayenne up onto the Indigo and belowdecks, where Vodola was still quite out of it. Laying the otter out on the other bunk (there were only two beds aboard the rather diminutive craft), Pyr went back out of the cramped stateroom to check the vessel for damage.

There was none that she could see. As Vodola had guessed, the lizards had been so intent upon reaching the castaways that they'd ignored the boat itself. The delicate sails, which would have taken another full day or two to repair if they'd been shredded by reptilian claws, were intact, as were all the lines and the patched hull itself. They were still shipshape and ready to sail come daylight - assuming there were no further attacks during the night.

Pyr settled in for a vigil by the open hatch, where she could survey the nighttime beach from atop the Indigo while still monitoring her two friends. Vodola, who'd absorbed much less of the basilisks' knockout drug than Cayenne, was up and about before the moon was showing above the jungle trees. "How're you doing?" Pyr asked her fellow vixen.

Vodola smacked her lips. "My mouth feels like I swallowed my habit. That drug leaves a nasty case of dry mouth as an aftereffect. So, what'd I miss?"

Pyr filled her in. "No sign of those brutes returning so far. But I'm glad you're awake. I don't know what I'd have done if they'd come back in force."

"Nothing you could have done, except retreat back belowdecks again. Sounds like Cayenne was the hero for a change. Pretty reckless of her, charging out at the lizards like that."

"She paid the price," said Pyr. "Probably sleep until after midnight, with all the drug she took in. And I daresay she'll wake with more than just a case of cottony mouth. But I think she'll be all right. We should be thankful those lizards use sleeping potion instead of poison on their darts."

"Yes. And that was quick thinking of you, picking up the blow reed that one of them dropped up here and using it against them. You may have saved Cayenne's life."

They sat together awhile in the growing moonlight, saying nothing.

"They could come back," Vodola said at last.

"I suppose," Pyr nodded. "We'll just have to be ready for them."

"That's what I was thinking. But those dart blowers are very effective long-range weapons, and we've got only blades to defend ourselves. I doubt a mad rush like Cayenne's will work twice in a row. I think we've got to take precautions."

"Such as?"

"I saw something in one of the other wrecks when we were scavenging for supplies. I didn't pay it much notice at the time, but now I think it bears closer examination ... "

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Cayenne came to shortly past midnight, sporting a wicked headache for her brave efforts. Pyr quickly brewed her a potion to ease her throbbing head, then explained that she and Vodola were going out for a short while to round up something they very well might need before they got off this island.

Cayenne took over Pyr's decktop sentry duty while the two vixens departed. With their excellent night vision, aided by the nearly-full moon, Pyr and Vodola quickly found what they were looking for. In the dilapidated, open hull of another shipwreck, Vodola dug into a chest and pulled out what she'd sought.

"There must have been fencing beasts aboard this ship," she said as she thrust one of the screened-front helmets at Pyr. "Here, try this on and see how it fits."

Pyr lowered the helmet over her head. "Hey, this feels really weird ... and I can hardly see a thing."

"In full daylight you'll be able to see out of it no problem."

"If you say so. Just what do we want with these again?"

"They'll keep any of those lizards' darts from getting through."

Pyr pulled off the fencing helmet. "Fine, but what about the rest of our bodies? Seems I remember they weren't shooting at our heads."

"Fencers don't just wear helmets. They wear padded tunics and leggings too ... like so!" Vodola pulled out a pair of full-body uniforms. "Ta-da!"

Pyr took one of the heavy practice outfits and held it up to the moonlight streaming in through gaps in the shattered hull. "Hey, nice. Not quite armor, but nearly as good."

"Better, if you ask me," claimed Vodola. "If those lizards attack again while we're trying to get the Indigo pushed off, we'll need flexibility for our work that steel armor wouldn't give. Wearing these, we could absorb a barrage of their darts and probably not feel a thing!"

"Okay." Bearing one practice outfit apiece, Pyr and Vodola hurried back to the Indigo to give Cayenne the good news: tomorrow they were getting off the island rain or shine ... or even if it was raining darts


	38. Chapter 38

"When the Gods Grow Angry"

_(Author's Note: This scene contains what is perhaps my single favorite exchange of dialogue in all my Vodola posts. I'll leave it to you to see if you can figure out what it is ... )_

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Cayenne and Vodola took one look at the erupting mountain, then Vodola ducked back down into the stateroom. When she reappeared moments later, she'd shed her habit and was fastening the padded tunic and leggings around her.

"What are you doing?" Pyr shouted. "There's no time for that now!"

"There's always time for being smart," Vodola retorted. "With that volcano blowing like that, those lizards could come swarming out of the jungle any moment."

"If they do, they'll have too much on their minds to pay any attention to us," said Pyr.

"Unless they mean to steal the Indigo for themselves to escape ... in which case they'll use their blow darts and anything else they can to take this boat away from us." Vodola finished applying her fencing suit, buckled on her twin shortswords outside the leggings, and slapped the helmet over her head. "If you want my advice, you should put yours on too."

Cayenne regarded the padded vixen. "You look like a spaceman."

"What's a spaceman?"

"Just something I read about in a story once. You sure that'll protect you from the lizards' darts?"

"It's the best we'll be able to do on short notice. Come on, let's get the boat in the water!"

All three of them hopped down and ran to the back of the craft, Pyr disregarding Vodola's advice about the fencing equipment. Setting their shoulders to the Indigo's flat stern, they pushed and heaved for all they were worth, but only succeeded in shifting the vessel by a few inches. Their footpaws slipped and slid in the loose sand, the shifting stuff that Vodola had hated from her very first moments on this island.

"This'll never work!" Pyr complained. "The boat's too heavy!"

"I'd planned on digging a trench out to the tideline, and letting the water flood in and raise it on high tide," said Cayenne. The otter threw a glance back at the volcano. "No time to wait for high tide now."

"If only we'd pushed it closer to the water while Vink was still here," Vodola said. "I bet the four of us could have done it."

"Hey, look!" Pyr pointed farther down the beach, where a small swarm of the savage rats had flooded out of the trees and now stood milling about in total confusion. "They don't like this any better than we do."

"As long as they stay down there and don't bother us," Vodola growled from behind her helmet. "It's those lizards I'm worried about. No sign of them yet ... "

Vodola had no way of knowing that the basilisks, who lived at the base of the volcano and worshipped it as a god, were already no more. When the lava had begun to flow, they had not panicked and fled but had instead thrown themselves prostrate on the ground in rapture. And there they'd stayed even as the river of molten rock cascaded over them, drowning them in burning agony. The masters of this island had been annihilated by an even greater master.

Another thing the trio could not have guessed was that the seismic activity had not been confined to the island itself. Offshore, on the deep bottom of the ocean, the ground had also shifted abruptly, and the sea was soon to make its displeasure known.

"We need ropes and pulleys!" Vodola shouted. "I think I saw some in one of those other wrecks. Let's go get them!" The padded vixen raced off toward the other beached vessels.

Cayenne gazed at the surf. "Even if we can find ropes and pulleys, there are no rocks here that we can hook them up to. Maybe if we pound in some heavy timber stakes ... oh, fur and flamation!"

Pyr glanced away from Vodola's retreating figure to see what had made the otter utter such an exclamation. The vixen's jaw dropped.

A wall of water was marching across the sea, straight toward them.

"Vodola! Get back here!" Pyr screamed at the top of her lungs, but Cayenne was already pulling her bodily toward the Indigo.

"No time! We've got to get aboard!"

"We can't leave Vodola behind!" There were tears on Pyr's face.

"Maybe that padding will help her float," Cayenne said as she bustled Pyr up the gangplank. "And if we're very lucky, maybe the Indigo will float above that as well. Now get below and batten down the hatches, and let's pray that any of us get out of this alive!"

As they raced for the stateroom, Pyr saw that Cayenne's cheeks were moist too


	39. Chapter 39

"Alive ... and Adrift"

When they pulled Vodola aboard, she wasn't breathing. Pyr lay her fellow vixen face-down on the deck and started pumping furiously on her back, until Vodola sputtered and choked, coughing up an impressive amount of seawater.

Pyr and Cayenne settled back on their haunches, tearful smiles on their faces as Vodola came fully around. Still hacking and rasping, she got to her knees and looked around. Her eyes went wide as she saw the mostly-submerged island. "Looks ..." cough, " ... like we just ... " cough cough, " ... got off in time."

Her two companions took her in their comforting paws. "Well, we wanted off the island," Cayenne grinned. "We're off now!"

"But what happened to you?" Pyr asked Vodola.

"That monster wave was almost on top off me when I saw it. I dove behind the nearest hull ... not that that was going to protect me much. When it hit, I was swept up with just about everything else, and knocked around like a feather in a whirlwind. I don't remember much after that ... must've hit my head on something and gotten conked out."

"Or gulped in enough water to half-drown you," said Pyr. "I'm guessing that helmet and padding probably saved your life. Not only did it protect your body from collisions, but it kept you afloat long enough for us to find you. You were right, Vodola - putting that fencing suit on was probably the smartest thing you ever did!"

"Uh huh - just not for the reasons I thought," Vodola smiled weakly, examining the various rents and tears crisscrossing her padded suit. "Looks like I was scraping against quite a bit - this outfit's ripped to shreds!" She shuddered at the thought of how she would have fared if she'd been wearing only her habit.

"I'm betting some of that damage was done by the reef," said Pyr. "That giant wave washed you and us right over it. We're out of danger now ... at least from that."

"Did anybeast else make it off the island?" Vodola asked. "The rats? The lizards?"

"Look around." Cayenne swept a paw across the waters. There was not even much in the way of debris floating on the surface; of other creatures - living or dead - there was no sign whatsoever.

"Poor devils. Not that I'm not glad to be rid of them for myself, but still ... "

Pyr started unbuckling the fastenings of Vodola's fencing suit. "Here, let's get you out of this wet, heavy thing. Your habit's down below, nice and dry."

"Thanks. But I think I'll sit in the sun for a while to dry out my fur. I'm positively waterlogged!"

"Better to have water in your fur than in your lungs," Cayenne pointed out.

Vodola nodded in agreement. "Thanks, you guys. For saving me."

"Don't mention it," said Pyr.

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A short time later, with the volcanic peak receding in the distance, the three of them were sitting on the deck of the Indigo, ruminating on their current position.

"The sails are a total loss, huh?" Vodola said, gazing up at the naked mast as she idly felt around at her many bruises and contusions. She must have been utterly black and blue under her fur. And her tail and all four paws displayed a nice collection of cuts to boot. She was a mess, but still in far better shape than she had any reason to expect.

Cayenne nodded. "That wave may have gotten us over the reef, but it wasn't very kind to us as far as our sails went."

"Don't suppose we have enough spare fabric on board to fashion new ones?"

"We needed all the storage space in the hold for our food and water supplies," said Pyr. "Which will last us a fortnight, if we ration it very carefully. Didn't think we'd need a new set of sails."

"That's what I thought," Vodola muttered.

"Right after I pulled you out of the water, I started looking around for flotsam that might be of use," said Cayenne. "I was hoping maybe some of that spare canvas from our tents or some of the other wrecks might be floating nearby, but I didn't see anything like that."

The three of them were silent awhile.

"Anything on board that we can use as an oar?" Vodola inquired.

"Not really," Pyr shrugged. "But you really couldn't row across the ocean anyway. We're a three-beast boat, not a corsair ship with a galleyful of slaves to propel us."

"So, what do we do now?" asked Vodola.

"What indeed?" echoed Cayenne. "Out of the frying pan, into the fire ... again."


	40. Chapter 40

"Earlier That Day"

(_Author's Note: In two marathon posts between my last one and this one, Pyr's writer got the three castaways into the Roaringburn, aboard a merchant ship, down to Southsward and to Castle Floret, where they met with the Queen there and started notifying everybeast they could trust about the Maulseed/Canto Attia conspiracy. This scene picks up in the midst of those preparations ..._ )

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Pyr was so busy she didn't know whether she was coming or going. Ever since their arrival at Southsward, she had been the main mover amongst the three castaways as far as coordinating their action against the Maulseed/Canto Attia conspiracy. Pyr was the one with family and contacts in this region, after all, so the brunt of the work had naturally fallen to her.

Cayenne and Vodola had accompanied Pyr during the meeting with Queen Constantina, both to corroborate Pyr's fantastic story and for Vodola to show off the book in which the evidence of the conspiracy was contained. But for a day after that, Pyr was so immersed in her feverish preparations that she barely noticed her two friends were nowhere to be seen. Once or twice she stopped to wonder where they might have got to, but then she would be swept up in the rush of events once more, and give the matter no more thought.

Late afternoon of their second day in Castle Floret, Pyr was hurrying down a corridor raptly studying a dispatch in her paws when she collided with somebeast else. Glancing up in agitation, she found herself staring into the bright blue eyes of a red-blonde vixen wearing a gypsy's skirt. Pyr didn't recognize the other fox, which was strange, since nearly the only foxes to be found in Castle Floret were her own relatives and associates. But her irritation overcame her curiosity just at the moment. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" she scowled, moving to continue past the clumsy beast.

"Aye, an' th' same could be said fer you!" the other vixen responded testily, in a thick brogue.

Something about this beast's air of arrogance made Pyr stop and turn back, her face flushing red with anger. "Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but I've got very important business here, and you'd do well not to stumble about crashing into your betters!"

"Auch, my betters, she says! Lissen to Missus high 'n' mighty!" The other vixen took a challenging step toward Pyr. "An' wot makes yer think yer business be any more 'portant than mine, eh?"

Now Pyr was totally flustered. "Just who do you think you are, you impertinent little snip!"

"Ooo, now I'm little! Seems t'me I got a paw's breadth in height on you, yer highness. An' better sense not t'go rushin' about with me snout buried in me business, not watchin' out where I'm a-goin'!"

One thing Pyr definitely did _not_ take kindly to was jibes about her height. "What is your name? I've a mind to report you to the palace guards."

"Well, at least she admits to having a mind," the vixen said sarcastically. "Fer awhile there I was beginnin' to wonder." Then her voice changed abruptly, into one that was instantly familiar to Pyr. "Wotsa matter, Pyr? Don't you recognize your old fellow castaway?"

Pyr's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "Vo ... Vodola? Is that you?"

Vodola's posture shifted to her more usual carriage. "And what other beast would be taunting you so superbly?" she grinned widely.

"I ... I don't believe it! What happened? Your fur ... your eyes!"

"Cayenne and the castle's cosmetician gave me a mild bleach bath," Vodola explained, "so now I'm a blonde ... well, red-blonde, at least, as opposed to the red-orange I used to be. Dyed my eartips too, and pinned them back a bit - you don't realize how much character comes from your ears until you alter the shape of them - and Cayenne showed me a special polishing stone you can rub on the end of your snout to give your nose an entirely different sheen. The eyes were the toughest. Had to put drops of a special dye into them - stung a bit, and my sight's still a bit bleary. Cayenne assures me it'll wear off in awhile. I sure hope so. I can't go blundering around Maulseed like a bat in daylight, now can I?"

"Maulseed?" Pyr repeated. "What are you talking about?"

Vodola's demeanor turned more somber. "I know we were talking about having me go to Redwall to warn them, but I've decided that it makes more sense for me to return to Maulseed, especially if I can disguise myself like this."

"But, what do you hope to accomplish there?"

"Jerreaun was only headmistress for the foxes," Vodola explained. "The real power there is Dean Voth, a weasel who took over running the academy when Lord Maulseed died. Voth is not a beast to be trifled with, and he is very, how shall we say, proprietary about his school. If he's not part of this conspiracy, he won't be at all pleased to learn of Jerreaun's activites."

"And if he is in cahoots with Jerreaun and Rilander?"

"Then there are others at Maulseed I think I might be able to win to my cause. I've got to try this, Pyr - I'm the only beast who possibly can. Why settle for just telling Redwall and Salamandastron to prepare for war, when I might be able to head off the conflict at the source? I mean, you're planning to go to Canto Attia, and that's hardly the safest place for you."

"But I won't be going there alone," Pyr countered, then heaved a sigh. "In the time I've known you, Vodola, one thing I've learned to tell about you is when you have your mind made up about something. So I know it would be useless trying to argue with you. I suppose you already have your travel arrangements made?"

Vodola nodded. "Shrew ferry leaves for the coast just before sunrise tomorrow. From there I'll board a merchant ship that'll take me far enough north that I'll only have a day or two's march to Maulseed. Not that I'm crazy about the idea of sailing on another voyage after what we've been through, but time's of the essence. And I figure, what are the chances of me being shipwrecked twice in a row?"


	41. Chapter 41

"Vodola's Final Odyssey"

Vodola was beginning to think she'd become a hopeless romantic.

Upon reflection, as she rocked her way along in the badger-drawn cart, her feelings toward Pyr's brother Kiel were quite legitimate ... and that was the problem. Her feelings toward Vinklinar had been just as genuine. She'd valued the young weasel as a friend, but knew in her heart that she would have jumped at the chance to be more than that, in spite of their species difference. And this awareness was causing no end of conflict in her thoughts. She hadn't merely been playing with Kiel when she planted that kiss on his lips; if she ever saw him again, she fully intended to pick up right where they'd left off. But something about that idea seemed like a betrayal to Vink. She knew Vinklinar would find the whole thing quite preposterous - why shouldn't she go after a fine and handsome young tod like Kiel, it was only natural. There'd never been anything more than friendship between her and Vink, except perhaps fleetingly in her own mind. But still ...

Vodola shook her head to clear it of these romantic cobwebs. This was no time to be dwelling on such trivial matters, when she was about to march straight into the jaws of danger.

The evening before, after she'd unveiled her new blue-eyed, red-blonde self to Pyr, she'd spent some time with her two fellow castaways showing them the basics of Maulseed foxscript. Earlier in the day she'd made up two charts for Pyr and Cayenne that would serve as a basic translation table to convert foxscript into the common language. She'd also transcribed copies of Jerreaun's secret message to Rilander, in both the original hieroglyphs and in common translation. Cayenne picked up the cryptic writing surprisingly fast, showing a facility with language that not even Pyr could match. The two of them would make a good team when they reached Canto Attia.

The poisoner's pawbook itself would go with Vodola to Maulseed. She might need it as a trump card to gain entrance to the vermin school, if things didn't go as planned.

The cart hit a large rock in the road, jolting her against the side railing. Vodola scowled, as much at her own impatience as anything. She could have walked to the river almost as quickly as this badger was taking her, but Queen Constantina had been adamant about providing this amenity for Vodola. It was probably for the best; Vodola's footpaws were still healing from the battering they'd taken in the tsunami, and since there was sure to be plenty of walking ahead for her, she was right to rest her feet any chance she could get.

The sun was already in the sky when they pulled up to the shrew ferry. Fortunately, the ferrybeasts had waited for her, passing the time by arguing in typical shrew fashion whether they should wait for her. It had never really been an issue; Vodola was traveling under the auspices of the Queen herself, and if the shrews had taken off without her, they might have found their docking privileges suspended for many seasons to come.

Vodola thanked the hulking badger for her conduct, tipping him with a pawful of fancy sweets usually reserved for the royal court. She was glad that the ferry barge, and the larger ship on the coast, were available. She didn't know the distances between Mossflower and Southsward very well, but she supposed that if she'd had to travel all the way to Maulseed by cart or on foot, it would take the better part of a season ... and that was time they simply didn't have.

She stepped aboard the shrew raft and watched the banks slide quickly past as they got underway. The green beauty of this land made her heart glad that such places were to be found in the world. It would be a tragedy to have it destroyed by the war that Jerreaun and Rilander sought to unleash.


	42. Chapter 42

"Maulseed, Part One"

Vodola made excellent time on her journey. Four days aboard the merchant ship Marillion brought her far enough north to commence her land crossing. Another two days' brisk march inland, and she was nearly to her old school.

As she approached the vicinity of Maulseed Academy, dressed in her borrowed gypsy skirt and her eyes flashing blue from out of her red-blonde face, Vodola could see immediately that something was amiss.

Maulseed was a secret place. Of course, it would be impossible to hide any walled compound the size of that academy, so its founders had done the next best thing: they'd encouraged vermin families who would be sympathetic to Maulseed - and might even provide it with fresh students - to settle on its outskirts, and thus discourage woodlanders from living nearby. Over the seasons, a ring-shaped village had grown to encircle Maulseed, and any goodbeasts who happened to venture by would be prodded to move along quickly before they had much of a chance to wonder at what might be going on behind those high walls.

Naturally, such subterfuge would only work as long as the vermin academy's military activities remained within its walls, and the village surrounding it maintained the appearance of an ordinary, non-military settlement. Maulseed was meant to be a training ground for warriors and generals, not a fortress from which to wage an actual war ... although it could be used as such in a pinch.

Apparently, somebeast had decided that the pinch had come.

Armed soldiers roamed the village. Some bore the formal and proper manner of Maulseed training, but many others exhibited the traditional roughness of ordinary, ill-trained vermin. Where had they all come from? And what were they doing here? There were enough troops present to constitute a small army. Apparently Headmistress Jerreaun was wasting no time in assembling a force to fulfill her part of whatever bargain she'd struck with Rilander Castanel. Vodola had not arrived a moment too soon. The question was, had she arrived too late?

Affecting the gait and posture as shown to her by Cayenne which would help to mask her true identity, Vodola gathered her wits and strode right into the heart of the village.

For now, she wanted to avoid any of her old schoolmates if she could; there was no way to tell which ones might be part of Jerreaun's conspiracy. Playing her hunch, she approached a tall stoat who appeared to be in some position of authority, although he was unfamiliar to her and carried no air of Maulseed sophistication about him.

"Hey, there," she hailed him. It was difficult to convincingly alter her voice and still sound natural, but she doubted this unrefined ruffian would detect anything wrong. "I heard you're raising an army. Got any use for a vixen who's good with bow and arrow?" These were not Vodola's arms of choice, but she figured she'd draw too much attention to herself if she showed up out of the blue with Maulseed-level blade skills. She was good enough with bow and arrow that she could demonstrate her worth without appearing truly exceptional - just the kind of raw recruit these plotters would value.

The grizzled stoat looked her up and down. "If ye're an archerbeast, where're yer weapons?"

Vodola spread her paws apologetically. "Alas, they were stolen, by a gang of unruly rats who cared not that I was coming here to lend you my assistance. They jumped me, gave me these injuries you see on my paws, and left me with naught but the clothes on my back. But lend me the use of a long bow and a quiver of arrows, and I'll show ye what I c'n do with 'em!"

The stoat stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm ... normally, I'd send you into th' fortress to join the other vixens. But if arch'ry's yer talent, I guess you'll be staying out 'ere with us fightin' beasts. Most vixens wanna work with poisons 'n' daggers, it seems, not do honest soldierin'."

Vodola made a face. "Ain't never held truck with treacherous types like that. Much rather put a shaft in an enemy's eye than slip a blade 'twixt its ribs!"

The stoat guffawed. "Harr, a vixen after me own 'eart! Cap'n Trushatt's me name. What's yers?"

Vodola opened her mouth to utter the name "Lorna" which she and Pyr had agreed upon as her alias, but that was not what came out. She could not have explained what made her do it, but her tongue took charge and changed this aspect of her plans of its own volition.

"Athi Retta," Vodola said without hesitation.

"Ah, that's a good vixen name. Welcome, Retta, we c'd use more beasts like you round here." He pointed across to where a group of temporary tents had been erected to house the inflood of new creatures to this location. "You c'n go sign up over there, they'll get yer all settled with a bed and two meals a day. An' a bow 'n' arrers, so you c'n show us what y'got. Look fer th' fat weasel with one ear, ee's Sergeant Scribbner. Tell 'im I sent ya, he'll treat ya decent!"

"Thank you, Captain," Vodola bowed, and headed for the tents. So far, so good ...

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Once she'd received her bedding assignment and a standard longbow to call her own, Vodola went to stand in line for the evening meal. One thing she'd learned long ago was that hungry beasts waiting to be fed were often very loose with their lips.

The commissary was set up in another tent, and apparently served for all the extra creatures who dwelt outside Maulseed. The lines were long, but that was exactly what Vodola wanted. Unobtrusively picking her time so that she ended up in queue between two of the more talkative beasts she'd observed, she struck up a conversation.

"I'm new here," she said. "Heard they were recruiting hereabouts for fighting beasts, but I dunno anymore'n that. What's it's all about, d'ya know?"

The ferret behind her scowled at her and said nothing, clearly not enamored of having to share his personal space with a treacherous vixen, but the tubby rat in front of her was more outgoing.

"Aw, they're raisin' an army, shore 'nuff," he said. "Don't know what it's fer, but we been promised riches an' spoils greater'n anything any horde has ever got before. They say that fortress here's got magical commanders, who know new ways o' warmaking that nobeast's ever seen."

"Ahh," Vodola said, nodding. "Yes, I'd heard something about the weasel who runs this place. Lord Voth, I believe ... "

The rat gave her an odd look. "'Fraid you got yer facts wrong, missie. Only headbeast 'round here's a vixen, just like you. Older, o' course. She's got a gaggle o' younger foxes who run about overseein' things ... some of 'em are barely kits, but they know how t'give orders, they do, an' woe to anybeast who crosses 'em!"

"Heard there used t'be a weasel in charge here," the ferret intoned frostily from behind her, "but he's dead now, an' that old crone's runnin' the show."

Vodola fought to hide her surprise. If Headmistress Jerreaun had murdered Dean Voth and taken total control of Maulseed for her own, with her closeknit cadre of vixens and tods to enforce her will, Vodola would be hard-pressed to accomplish anything here, short of sacrificing herself in a suicidal assassination attempt. She'd hoped to find at least a few allies here who might oppose Jerreaun in her plot with Rilander Castanel, but if the traitorous vixen had eliminated all of her potential enemies right at the start, this might be hopeless. Vodola well remembered what it was like to be a devoted child at Jerreaun's knee, eager for the Headmistress's praise and fearful of her power. Those foxes she had working for her now would be totally dedicated to their master, and ruthless in dealing with anybeast who threatened them.

Vodola knew this, because she herself would have felt the same way. That was before Jerreaun had tried to have her killed.

As they shuffled closer to the front of the serving line, Vodola caught sight of something that gave her cause for hope, or at least an angle to pursue. There behind the mess tables was Friar Feerick himself, who had been in charge of feeding Maulseed's students and faculty for as long as Vodola had attended the school. The portly rat was striding back and forth among the servers, overseeing the operation. He didn't seem too happy. Vodola said to the young rat in front of her, "Hey, hold my place in line?" Before either he could assent or the ferret behind her object, Vodola ducked out of line and made her way to the side of the tables, where she could better study the Friar rat.

"Auch, ye buncha feeblepawed slops!" Feerick grumbled. "Is this what y'call rations fit fer fightin' beasts? I wouldn't give this swill t' searats!"

"Hey, I'm a searat!" complained a voice from near the head of the line.

Feerick ignored the protester. "If it ain't bad 'nuff, that pushy martinet Jerreaun openin' up our home to all this rabble, she saddles me with so-called 'cooks' who can't tell one end of a ladle from another!" He directed his wrath against the servers behind the table with him. "Lissen up! I gotta cook fer everybeast inside the compound - I ain't cookin' for all this lot too. An' if you clods don't learn t'make some decent grub, ye're gonna have deserters aplenty!"

Feerick wiped his paws on a dishrag and disgustedly threw it aside as he stormed off, narrowly missing a tub of stew with the errant ball of cloth. Vodola stepped far enough aside as he passed so that she wouldn't attract his attention - but not so far that she couldn't hear him distinctly mutter, "If only Dean Voth were still alive, 'ee wouldn'ta let this happen!"

Vodola unobtrusively slunk back to her place in line, where the rat allowed her back in queue and the unfriendly ferret growled but said nothing. Well, she'd gotten the confirmation she'd needed, from one of the Maulseed oldtimers: Dean Voth was indeed dead, and not everybeast on the school's staff was happy with the situation. She might have hope of finding allies here after all. But it would have to be more than just Feerick. Tough as the old Friar was, he was still just a Friar, and never held any true power at Maulseed. Now, one of the weaponsmasters would be a different story ...

When Vodola finally made it to the tables, she found the food quite satisfactory. It wasn't up to Feerick's usual standards, but after some of the things she'd been forced to eat during her time on the island, she wasn't about to complain.

That evening, as she was getting ready for bed, Vodola put more of the blue dye in her eyes. The others around her wondered at her head-tilted-back, drops-in-the-eyes routine. "Hey, wotcha doing?" asked an inquisitive female stoat.

"Got an eye condition," Vodola answered casually. "Hafta put this medicine in every morn an' every night, or else I get all crosseyed. Won't be any good to this army if I can't see straight t' shoot my bow, y'know!"

"Does it hurt t'all?" asked the ferretmaid who was bunking next to her.

"Stings a bit," Vodola replied, capping her bottle and replacing it in her pocket as she batted her eyes. "But y'get used to it."

"Looks real blue, that med'sin o' yers," commented the stoat. "Lucky it matches yer natural blue eye color."

"Never really thought about it," said Vodola.

The ferret shuddered. "I c'd never do that! Put stuff in my eyes - ungh! Gives me the willies jus' thinkin' 'bout it."

Vodola lay down on her cot, making sure her long gypsy's skirt was down to her ankles and concealing her shortswords. "Sometimes a soul's just gotta make sacrifices, eh?


	43. Chapter 43

"Maulseed, Part Two"

Vodola awoke in the dead of night, instantly aware that something was very wrong. Holding her breath, straining her ears, and keeping herself perfectly still, she realized that somebeast was pawing at her skirt, trying to feel through the fabric for any hidden belongings she might have on her.

Timing her move perfectly, Vodola lashed out with one footpaw, and felt the butt of her heel connect most satisfactorily with somebeast's snout. There was a pained "oomph" and a thunk as the perpetrator fell back heavily on the ground. Vodola tensed herself for a fight, thinking that this thief might be part of a gang, but no further molestation came. Through the darkness she could see some unidentifiable creature rise from the dirt floor and go slinking away into the night. Waiting a few minutes to make sure the culprit was not about to return armed or with comrades, Vodola sank back into dreams of Kiel, Vinklinar, and some of her old Maulseed friends.

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The first thing she did when she awoke the following morning was apply more of the dye to her eyes, while her bunkmates either looked on in fascination or turned away in queasiness. Cayenne had stressed that this dye would have to be used at least twice a day to keep her newly-blue eyes from fading back to their natural green-gold color. She doubted such a thing would actually give away her identity - she'd altered enough other aspects of her appearance that she still wouldn't look like herself, even if her eyes returned to normal - but a mysterious change in her eye color would raise questions not easily answered. Better to be safe than sorry.

She'd just finished applying the dye drops and replacing the bottle in her pocket when a nasty-looking female ferret with a bruised nose and a black eye appeared at the foot of her bed, along with Captain Trushatt. "That's the one!" the ferret accused, pointing at Vodola with a grubby paw. "She kicked me right in th' face! I want her punished!"

The stoat officer studied Vodola. "That true, Retta?"

"Aye, I gave her those bruises," Vodola calmly admitted, "while she was kneelin' at my bedside in th' middle of th' night, tryin' t' roust me!"

"I ain't never!" the ferret protested, feigning insult.

Trushatt gave a frustrated sigh. "Well, Retta, I gotta tell ya, Zalzal here's been a regular fer a fortnight, an' ye're new 'ere, so I gotta give her th' benefit of th' doubt. Get yer bow an' come with me to th' target range. If'n ye can't prove yer worth to us, y'gotta leave. Can't have no troublemakers in me regiment."

Vodola did as she was told, and shortly thereafter stood with the stoat captain before the archery targets while the rest of the army was on line for breakfast. He gave her a quiver of twenty arrows and instructed her to shoot away. Aiming was difficult with her eyes still stinging from the dye drops, but she didn't do too horribly, or so she hoped.

Trushatt stood nodding after she'd loosed the last shaft. "Hmm, not bad. Only missed th' target once - I got some so-called archers here who can't find it half th' time. An' most o' yer shafts came at least halfway toward th' center. Okay, you c'n stay." Lowering his voice confidentially he added, "I 'spected t'was Zalzal causing that trouble last night, but gotta keep up appearances an' all that. No hard feelin's."

"Bring me back here after breakfast, when my eyes aren't blurry, an' I'll show ye how good I really am," Vodola challenged.

"Ye're on!" the Captain nodded enthusiastically. "If you c'n do any measure better'n what you just showed me, you might be one o' me best archerbeasts after all! Now go grab some grub, an' I'll see ya back 'ere afterwards."

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Breakfast was dry bread and slightly sour fruit cordial, but Vodola swallowed it down with gusto. From what Captain Trushatt had implied yesterday, these outdoor recruits got only two meals a day, and this would have to last her until the evening meal.

Once breakfast was over, she rejoined her fellow archers by the target range. Vodola stood by and watched while most of the others took their turn on the shooting line. Trushatt was right; these archers ranged from mediocre to downright awful. A few could barely find the target at all, and even the best rarely came close to the bull's eye. At this rate, she could be the star archerbeast in this army, but she decided that when her time came she would pull back a bit so as not to appear too skilled. She didn't want to draw that kind of attention to herself just yet. She would need another day or two to fully settle into things here, before she could safely set about her real work of infiltrating Maulseed itself.

Finally she took her turn, toeing the chalk shooting line and notching arrow to bowstring. She alternated between fine shots that found the center part of the target, and wide shots that hit the outer border. Not once did she allow a shaft to miss the target altogether; after the way she'd bragged to Trushatt earlier, that would have been going too far. She didn't want to risk getting expelled from this army for lack of usefulness.

As it turned out, she did not have to worry about that. As the last arrow left her bowstring with a twang, a familiar voice behind her said, "Well done! Can you shoot that well everytime, young vixen? Or only after you've had breakfast?"

Vodola turned and found herself face to face with Headmistress Jerreaun.

"Um ... usually that well," she stammered, caught by surprise.

Captain Trushatt stepped forward. "She's got medicine drops she puts in her eyes every morn, Marm. She's gotta wait fer 'em t' wear off afore she c'n shoot well."

Jerreaun nodded as she appraised Vodola. The younger vixen's heart was pounding a mile a minute. Fortunately, that could be interpreted as the effect of her strenuous shooting activity.

"Much better than this morning," Jerreaun said. "I was watching from the walltop during breakfast, and I can't say I was much impressed. But now I am. Where did you learn to shoot so well?"

"Learnt from my papa," Vodola responded, in what she hoped was a convincing accent utterly unlike her normal speaking voice. It was one thing to fool the rabble she'd encountered so far, but this was the vixen who'd personally schooled her for much of her life.

If Jerreaun recognized Vodola, she wasn't letting on. "Most vixens prefer other avenues of skill. Is archery your only talent?"

"My main one, yes."

"I see." Jerreaun looked to Trushatt. "I thought you were going to send all the vixens straight to me. Are there any other foxes out here I should know about?"

The stoat shrugged. "Just a couple o' dogfoxes, who prefer blades an' open fightin'. Kept 'em with th' regular troops. This'n only got here late yesterday. Said she were an archer, so I kept her out here t' see what she could do. You want her, she's all yers. But I gotta say, Marm, I c'd sure use a creature like this 'mongst my archerbeasts."

"Yes, I'm sure you'd be sorry to lose her," Jerreaun said in her smarmy, superior manner; it was clear that she considered herself in charge of everybeast around her. "Perhaps we can come to some accommodation then. Tell me, young one, what is your name?"

"Athi Retta." Vodola looked past Jerreaun, and saw that Natrona and Viroqua, two of her former vixen classmates, were standing behind their Headmistress, looking haughty and important. All the other creatures around them stood back to give the vixens plenty of room. Clearly Jerreaun and her foxes had asserted their authority amongst these vermin - exactly how, Vodola did not wish to contemplate - and they were now regarded with fear and respect by the other species.

Jerreaun placed a motherly paw around Vodola's shoulders and led her away, toward the entrance to Maulseed Academy. "Come with me, Athi. There is something I would like to discuss with you."

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Vodola was escorted through the school grounds, where many creatures she knew - both students and instructors - were busily engaged in training many others she didn't know. None gave her a second glance; she was a vixen on vixen business, and that was best not questioned. A few of Jerreaun's other vixens and tods were to be seen lounging about or patrolling the premises, lording it over their former teachers and classmates. Of all the rats, weasels, stoats, ferrets and martens at Maulseed, it was obvious which species held the upper paw here now.

Amongst the trainers Vodola spotted Kincy the rat and Trisko the weasel, her two best friends. They went about their duties matter-of-factly, and didn't even seem to notice her. Could they possibly be part of this conspiracy? She hoped not; many of these beasts seemed to be going through the motions without their usual enthusiasm or pride of performance. They must all have just been following Jerreaun's orders. She was in charge of Maulseed now, and to be obeyed in all things. And if she wasn't, she had her unquestioningly loyal vixens and tods, well-versed in the arts of assassination, to enforce her will.

Jerreaun, Viroqua and Natrona led Vodola into the school and upstairs to the center of power - not to Dean Voth's old office, oddly enough, but to Jerreaun's regular study. Perhaps it was a statement the Headmistress was making; she was in control here, and her office was now the nerve center of Maulseed.

Jerreaun bade Vodola to take a seat before the large desk, while the Headmistress seated herself behind it. Viroqua and Natrona stood back by the door in an unobtrusively threatening position. "Now then, Athi, as even a simple vixen like yourself can surely have figured out by now, we vixens run things here. Normally, I would take you into my service directly, and give you the prescribed assassin's training. However, since you seem to prefer bow and arrow to poisons and daggers, perhaps you can perform a greater service for me."

Vodola nodded. She painstakingly maintained a posture and attitude that was not her own, and even batted her eyes in a manner that she normally would not have. She wanted to create the perfect picture of an unsophisticated woodlands fox, unaccustomed to the ways of villages and towns. "Yessir, Ma'am? Whaddya want me t'do?"

Jerreaun smiled, and the effect was predatory and chilling. "I am sure you are not so simple that you lack all vixen wiles and craft. So, I want you to go back out and join the archers' regiment as you originally planned ... but also to be my eyes and ears out there. You see, ever since my, ah, ascension to the rulership of this academy, there have been those who are not entirely happy about it. I can manage the ones here inside the school well enough, but there might be some malcontents outside our walls as well, in the village and among the new recruits. I want you to keep an eye out for those. Not mere grumbling and bellyaching, you get that in every horde and army. I mean something dangerous, that could turn to insurrection and rebellion. Do you think you can do this for me?" And the cold smile on her lips made it plain that Jerreaun would accept only one answer.

Vodola nodded with feigned enthusiasm. "Yes, Ma'am, I'll do what I can. Never spied b'fore, but I think I c'n pull it off fer you."

"Splendid!" Jerreaun rose and came around from behind her desk to embrace Vodola. "Viroqua and Natrona here will be your liaisons. They will relay your reports back to me, so that you do not have to keep coming into the school yourself - that would only arouse suspicion. Serve me well, Athi, and you will be richly rewarded. Once Redwall is brought down and all of Mossflower is ours, you can have whatever station of power you desire."

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There was information Vodola had wanted to try to trick out of Jerreaun, but she'd dare not risk pushing things too far. That old vixen was the slyest beast alive, and would be alerted to the fact that something was amiss if her new recruit had started asking too many questions. As it was, Vodola could scarcely believe she'd gotten out of a personal interview with the Headmistress alive and with her cover still intact. If Jerreaun was wise to her, she was playing some game that Vodola hadn't figured out yet. She held herself tense for treachery at any moment as Natrona and Viroqua conducted her back outside.

But there was a chance that they truly hadn't recognized her. And if that was the case, Vodola was not about to pass up this opportunity to learn more about what had happened here in her absence.

"Hey, what'd yer boss mean 'bout Redwall fallin'?" she asked the two young vixens in an offpaw manner.

"That's what this school was built for," Natrona said primly. "To train a class of warriors and leaders who have the skill to conquer Redwall. That's all that stands between us ruling all of Mossflower."

"Ahh!" Vodola nodded. "I 'eard of that place, Redwall. Been th' bane o' my kind since long as anybeast c'n amember."

Natrona and Viroqua traded what they supposed was a covert glance of bemusement. Did they genuinely believe Vodola to be the thorough country bumpkin she was playing? Apparently so.

"Y'know, I 'eard rumors 'bout this place, too," she ventured. "Or leastways, I think t'was this place, though mebbe not. Fortress I 'eard 'bout was ruled by a weasel named Volk, or somethin' like that."

"Oh, you mean Dean Voth," said Viroqua. "He, um, had an accident recently. So Headmistress Jerreaun took over running the school."

"And a good thing, if you ask me," put in Natrona. "Maulseed Academy's nearly two generations old. How much longer were we to sit around training youngbeasts to be generals and warriors, and see naught come of it? Voth only wanted to keep things the way they were, and we were going nowhere. Headmistress Jerreaun knows that our time has come. She can fight the war that Lord Maulseed dreamt of when he founded this academy, and deliver us the victory that has eluded us for so long!"

Vodola was astounded at the fanaticism in Natrona's tone. She'd never suspected her old classmate possible of such blind hatred of woodlanders.

"Yes," said Viroqua. "A few of the old guard here questioned our Headmistress when she announced her plans. We've taken care of them! Some are having a nice little vacation down in our dungeons now, and the rest ... well, like I said, we took care of them. There was even one of our own, a snooty little vixen, who thought she was too good for us. The Headmistress sent her away, and made sure she'd never come back again." She shot a knowing glance at Vodola. "And if you do your part, Athi, we'll take care of any outside who feel the same way. There's no turning back now, and no room in this army for anybeast who doesn't support our cause one hundred percent."

They were out of the school grounds by this time, and the two vixens took their leave of Vodola. As she wandered back through the village to rejoin Captain Trushatt's archery brigade, Vodola's head swam. But her course of action was now clear to her.

Jerreaun did not enjoy the wide support of Maulseed's staff or student body; otherwise, she would not have to resort to terror to keep them in line. So, if Jerreaun was removed from the equation, this plot of hers would fly apart under its own momentum. Jerreaun was the key.

Which meant that Jerreaun must die


	44. Chapter 44

"Maulseed, Part Three"

For the next several days, Vodola plotted, planned and prepared.

Since she was on the archer's squad, her days were mostly free. After all, once she'd shown her worth as an archerbeast, what was she expected to do - spend all day firing thousands of arrows in the same target over and over? The archery team drilled for a short time each morning and afternoon, and that was all. So, to fill her free time, Vodola volunteered for commissary duty. She had two reasons for seeking that position. First, as Jerreaun's spy, she would need access to as many of these vermin as she could, and since they all had to eat, working the dining tables gave her the opportunity to overhear many conversations.

Secondly, there were certain items she needed access to as well, for her real purpose here, and the outdoor kitchens would solve that problem for her quite nicely.

As a vixen, it was automatically assumed by her commissary superiors that she would know all about herbs and such, and so she was frequently assigned to go forage through the nearby woods for plants and spices the cooks needed. She always took with her everything she'd require in the way of bowls or pots for her gathering ... and if a few containers or utensils went out with her and never came back, the rest of the staff were too busy with their massive food preparations to notice.

After the third day, she had all the tools she needed safely squirreled away in a secret tree nook in the deep woods: three bowls in which to mix and mash the various poisonous herbs, along with pestles, spoons and knives, and a small iron cauldron. Now it was time to gather the remaining materials she'd need for her dark purposes.

Vodola located a bee colony and, using a special herb-wrapped branch, smoked the insects into a stupor so she could collect some of their beeswax. After that she picked and pulled the various berries and barks and leaves from which could be distilled a particularly lethal poison, one which could be absorbed through the skin. This was the fate she'd chosen for Jerreaun.

Unfortunately, several things stood in the way. For one thing, Natrona and Viroqua had arranged that they should be Vodola's conduit between the outside and the Headmistress; Jerreaun herself never ventured from Maulseed after the morning she'd met with Vodola on the archery range. This plan would only work if Vodola could clasp paws with Jerreaun. As it was now, she did not even see her two former classmates most of the time, since her hastily-scrawled reports were to be left between two stones by the main gate so that Vodola would not be seen interacting with the other vixens regularly. She had an idea on how to overcome this hurdle, and would play that card when the time was right.

For another, Vodola did have to at least keep up the appearance that she was seriously working as Jerreaun's spy. That meant providing names, or at least descriptions, of beasts who were acting suspiciously or with open defiance. Vodola noticed that most of the creatures she singled out would shortly thereafter disappear from the ranks, never to be seen again. She hoped they were only being imprisoned in Maulseed's dungeons, but forced herself not to think about it. Even if they were only crude vermin, they didn't deserve Jerreaun's special attentions, and turning them in like this sickened Vodola. Even more than the need to thwart the Maulseed/Canto Attia conspiracy, this unsavory duty urged Vodola to complete her mission with the utmost speed.

On the third evening after her assignment as Jerreaun's spy, Natrona pulled Vodola side, using one of the student rats to summon her. "The Headmistress is not entirely pleased with the progress of your reports," the young vixen said arrogantly. "Surely there are more troublemakers out here than your last report indicated?"

"Mebbe there are," Vodola replied defensively, "but there's only so much I c'n hear, eh? Can't be ev'rywhere at once, can I? 'Sides which, lotsa these beasts don't trust vixens - y'know that. Lips close up when I'm about. I'm doin' what I can, you tell that to yer Headmissus."

"If you're going to be part of our team, you're expected to produce results," Natrona said with a hint of menace. "If you can't do the job ... "

"I'm a-doin' my job, don'tcha worry," Vodola huffed in her best backwoods persona. "Ain't any rebellion or such brewin' out here. If there was, you'd know 'bout it right quick."

"Oh, we're well aware of that." Natrona gave Vodola a look of utter disdain. "What, you think you're the only spy we've got out here?"

That conversation unsettled Vodola just a bit. She'd been assuming that she'd have the freedom to work in secrecy, unobserved. If somebeast was shadowing her during her trips into the woods, watching as she prepared the poison ... but no, she couldn't worry about that. She'd been as careful about everything as she could, and had to proceed as quickly as possible. The longer she waited, the more lives would be lost - and if she waited too long, Jerreaun would start this war that would bring total destruction upon them all.

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During the afternoon of the fifth day, Vodola returned to the encampment around Mausleed with the basket of herbs she'd been sent to gather. She gave the basket to the cook and then excused herself for personal reasons, careful not to touch him or anything else with her right paw. There was only one beast who would have that privilege today.

While out in the woods, she'd coated her paw with melted beeswax, dyed the same color as her fur so that it would be unobtrusive. Then she'd topped the wax with a thick slathering of the poison. This was a technique she'd studied at Maulseed, but never did she imagine that she would have occasion to put this knowledge into practice - least of all against the very vixen who'd taught it to her.

Vodola had made a point of leaving no list in the gate stones the night before. Sure enough, as the afternoon sun was sinking toward the horizon, a weasel from within Maulseed appeared to summon her to the gate. She fell into step behind him, and was soon facing Natrona through the cracked gate.

"Is something amiss, Athi?" the conspirator vixen demanded. "We didn't hear from you last night."

"Yah, something's amiss. Gotta see yer Headmissus."

"Why?"

"Something important I gotta show her."

"Give it to me. I'll take it to Headmistress Jerreaun."

"Gotta show it to her m'self. Lemme in."

Natrona looked down her snout at Vodola. "If this is some kind of gypsy's game you're playing, Athi, it won't get you anything but in a lot of trouble."

"You tell me if'n you think it's a game." Vodola reached into her baggy skirt with her left paw and withdrew the poisoner's pawbook she'd been hiding ever since her arrival at Maulseed.

Natrona's eyes went wide. Then she reached out to grab the book away from Vodola, but Vodola pulled it back and replaced it in her skirt pocket. "Yeh, I wagered there'd be a story b'hind that book. Well, I got a story o' my own, 'bout where I got it, an' who from. An' I'm only tellin' it to Jerreaun."

Natrona ground her fangs for a few moments, then relented and opened the gate wide enough for Vodola and her weasel escort to enter. "Right. We'll go up to see her together."

Natrona led the way across the lawns. Vodola was alert to any treachery on the part of her former classmate, but since Natrona was walking in front, it was clear that she did not deem her charge to be dangerous. If it came right down to it, Vodola would slay Natrona in an instant if that was the only way to carry out her plan.

Many beasts were engaged in their evening drills on the school grounds. Leading the drills was weaponsmaster Mogar. The lean ferret had not changed at all since Vodola had left for her sabbatical a season ago. The sight of him was almost reassuring. Of course, if he was on Jerreaun's side, he would be the most formidable of adversaries.

As they were heading toward the school, Natrona caught sight of Jerreaun across the lawns, and changed direction to meet the Headmistress. Vodola withdrew the book and held it at her side; it would be too obvious if she used her left paw to produce the volume while she was standing right before her enemy. Jerreaun was the kind of beast who noticed things like that.

"What have we here?" the older fox said frostily at the sight of Vodola. "Why have you come back inside the academy?"

"She has something I think you ought to see, Headmistress," Natrona said, and stepped aside for Vodola to approach her superior.

Vodola held out the book, and Jerreaun's eyes went every bit as wide as Natrona's had. She snatched the book away from Vodola and furiously flipped through it, coming at last to the back page and the secret note to Rilander Castanel. She glared daggers at Vodola. "Can you read this?"

"No, Ma'am. But the beast I got it from said it came from 'ere."

"And what beast was that, pray tell?"

"Don't I at least get a thank you, or a pawshake fer my efforts? T'weren't fer me, you'd never know 'bout that."

"Yes. Yes, of course." Jerreaun smiled icily, and extended her paw.

Her left paw.

For a heartbeat Vodola didn't know what to do. But she'd come too far. It was now or never. She took Jerreaun's left paw in her right one, awkward as that was, and squeezed. Hard. For as long as she could, until the Headmistress wrenched it away.

Jerreaun retreated back two steps and stood staring at her paw for several unbelieving moments, then turned a glare of pure hatred on Vodola. "That vixen just tried to poison me!" she shouted to everybeast around. "Seize her!"

Natrona lunged forward, drawing a dagger of her own. Vodola leaned away and dealt a sideways kick that sent the other young vixen to the ground with her knee shattered. Nobeast else was close enough to stop her now. Whipping back her skirt, Vodola drew her two shortswords and leapt at Jerreaun, burying one of the blades halfway in Jerreaun's chest.

The Headmistress stood stock still for a moment, a look of utter amazement on her face. Even though the poisoning technique that had just been tried on her was a Maulseed invention, she had not considered that it might be one of her very own students who stood before her now. And so she had not even tried to dodge Vodola's lightning attack, thinking more of the poison on her paw and the treachery of this gypsy than whether poison might not be her assailant's only weapon.

Then Jerreaun toppled to the ground, as dead as she would ever be, the shortsword still protruding from her chest.

Weaponsmaster Mogar was the first to the scene. "Augh, she's murdered the Headmistress! Slay her!"

Vodola pointed her second sword at the ferret. "Belay that order, Mogar, or it will mean your own death as well!"

Mogar's eyes narrowed at her. "Do I know you?"

"Don't you recognize one of your own students? I am Vodola, back from the dead! And I have just saved Maulseed from certain destruction! Do not waste your only chance at survival by killing me!"

"Hold! Hold!" Mogar bellowed at the other beasts who were pressing in on Vodola. "Do not harm that vixen! Anybeast who does will be slain!"

Vodola lowered her weapon as those around her did likewise, but remained poised for battle. Mogar walked up to her, squinting at her. "Vodola, you say? Not by my eyes." He glanced aside at Jerreaun. "That sword twixt the ribs looks like the work of a student I once had by that name, but you are not Vodola."

"Look more closely, weaponsmaster," Vodola commanded. "Through the bleached fur, dyed eyes and clipped-back ears. For I am truly Vodola."

"Yes ... yes, I can see it now. And why have you just slain Jerreaun?"

"Not because she arranged my own death, although that would be reason enough." Vodola sheathed her sword and bent down to retrieve the book from Jerreaun's dead grasp. She held the volume out to Mogar. "I slew her because she was part of a conspiracy that would have led to Maulseed's annihilation. And unless you are part of that conspiracy too, Mogar, I think you will find the note at the back of that book to be most interesting."

Mogar flipped to the page Vodola had indicated, then scowled. "Arr, it's in that blasted foxscript! Here, you!" He grabbed the nearby Viroqua by the ear and shoved the book at her. "Read that to me! And read it true, or I'll split yer belly open!"

Viroqua, trembling, read the secret message faithfully.

Mogar stood for many seconds, digesting what he'd heard. Then he grabbed Vodola by the arm and forced her toward the school. "Somebeast go let Proctor Erkan out of the dungeon, and bring him up to the Dean's office!" he bellowed. "Any fox tries t' stop you, you got my permission t' run 'em through!"

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Weaponsmaster Mogar sat behind Dean Voth's old desk. Beside him sat Proctor Erkan, senior professor at Maulseed, and Proctor Rosura, Headmaster of Strategies. Now that Jerreaun was dead, these three were the leadership of Maulseed. Unless one counted Jerreaun's fox disciples, but they were not about to challenge Mogar and his equally loyal rat and weasel fighters. Quite the contrary, in fact ...

"About a score of Jerreaun's student foxes were seen fleeing through the north gate and into the woods," said the rat strategist Rosura. "We caught a couple of the stragglers who got left behind, and Natrona's in the Infirmary with that busted knee Vodola gave her ... "

Vodola sat before them, feeling like she was on display. But when she heard this report she could not remain silent. "They're still a danger, even without Jerreaun. A score of foxes with Maulseed training is the equal of any hundred ordinary fighting beasts - "

"I know that!" Mogar snapped. "Who do you think it was gave them their fighter's training?" Then his expression softened. "Sorry, Vodola. I'm just edgy, is all. We've never faced anything like this before."

"Indeed we haven't," agreed Erkan. The gray-streaked marten nodded approvingly at Vodola, the scars of his tortures at Jerreaun's paws plainly evident through his fur. "We owe this young vixen a debt that will be hard to repay. But the question now is, how do we proceed?"

"We could go ahead with Jerreaun's plan," said Rosura. "I've studied the options, and an alliance with Canto Attia is not without its benefits. Jerreaun simply went about it the wrong way."

"You're suggesting open war?" Mogar sneered.

"Perhaps, perhaps not." The rat tactician picked at his chin fur. It was said that nobeast alive could best Rosura at the game of chess, or any other such game of strategy, and any battle plan he devised would most assuredly have been effective. "We could still have an alliance with Canto Attia, even if we did not move into open combat with Redwall. Although, I believe we could prevail in such a war. With the extra soldiers Jerreaun has summoned ... "

"But it would not be against Redwall alone. You heard Vodola: Redwall, Salamandastron and Southsward have all been alerted, as well as the Teranight clan. This is a school, not a fortress. We could never withstand having three armies show up on our doorstep at once. Even Jerreaun's strategy depended on us taking the battle to the woodlanders, and on the element of surprise."

"Proctor Erkan's right," said Vodola. "I was careful not to reveal the exact location of Maulseed to anybeast, for just that reason. They know about us now. If we call attention to ourselves with a war, they will know where to find us. And it will not just be woodlanders. Do you really feel like going up against a Badger Lord and the hares of the Long Patrol?"

"The Long Patrol's training is nearly equal to our own," Mogar was forced to admit. "And Badger Lords have been known to use catapults and ballistas. Weapons like that could breach our walls and lay us wide open. This cannot be allowed, Rosura."

The rat gave Vodola a cold stare. "You may have doomed us, young lady."

"No, I've saved you," Vodola retorted defiantly. "Jerreaun was about to lead you into ruin. If not for me, you would be headed for disaster now."

"I fear she is right," Proctor Erkan sighed. "So I repeat: what is to be done?"

"Nobeast will attack us if we keep to ourselves," Vodola urged. "We are capable of defending ourselves. But remember, this conspiracy had two heads. The one here has been neutralized, but the other down in Canto Attia is still an unknown. I made two friends in my travels: an otter and a vixen like myself. It was the three of us together who discovered this conspiracy, and decided to act against it. They have gone to Canto Attia, and we cannot know if they have met with the same success that I have."

"It is not our affair," sniffed Rosura.

"It may be," countered Erkan. "Tell us, Vodola, what do you propose?"

"Let me travel to Canto Attia with a group of Maulseeders I can trust. If my friends need assistance, we will provide it. Nobeast in Canto Attia will ever have seen creatures who can fight like we can."

The three elders consulted in whispers. At length Mogar said to her, "We must keep our full strength here, in case the woodlanders decide to attack after all. You may have two companions to accompany you. No more."

Vodola's heart fell, then rose again. Three Maulseeders was not a force to be taken lightly. "Very well. But I would like to be able to choose the two who will come with me."

Proctor Erkan and Weaponsmaster Mogar both smiled. "Yeah, I figgered," said Mogar. "And I got a feeling I know just which two it'll be."

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The following morning, Vodola set out from Maulseed, headed back toward the coast. At her side were her classmates Kincy the rat and Trisko the weasel. Between the three of them they carried enough weapons to stock an armory.

"I can't believe everything that's happened," Kincy said. "When Dean Voth died and Jerreaun took over, and then started building that army out here and cracking down on anybeast who opposed her, we didn't know what to do. We never imagined you were involved in this too."

"A lot of good creatures died because of Jerreaun," Vodola nodded, thinking of Vinklinar, and Orlic, and Tundra, and Athi, and even Levet, as well as all the other beasts who'd been aboard the Star Song. Even Ciarnait had, in a sense, been one of Jerreaun's victims; who could say what methods she'd used to force Ciarnait's cooperation?

"A lot more would've, if not fer you," Trisko admiringly told Vodola. "Ye're a real hero, Vodie, an' no mistake!"

"You two are my closest friends at Maulseed," the vixen said. "But I made other friends in my travels, and two of them might still be in terrible danger. Mogar has sent ahead for a vessel that will give us passage south. When we reach the coast, we'll board it and set sail for Canto Attia as fast as we can. Jerreaun has been made to pay for her crimes. Now it's Rilander Castanel's turn!


	45. Chapter 45

"The Final Piece of the Puzzle"

(_Author's Note: With the threat from Maulseed neutralized, the action shifted to Canto Attia and the villainous Rilander Castanel ... and since both that place and that character were the creation of Pyr's author, I let Josh handle most of those scenes. Most, but not all, since Vodola and her friends were integral to the various intrigues going on in the royal court. In this scene, she has just finished meeting with Pyr to lay the final plans for trapping Rilander. But the Marquis has plans of his own ..._ )

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As Vodola slipped away from Pyr's apartments and made her way through the inner and outer Attiana, she moved like a wraith, invisible to all eyes. Once she was past the outer wall, however, she strode in plain sight through the town streets of Canto Attia. Even this late at night, a vixen wearing a green Redwall-style habit was sure not to go unnoticed.

It didn't.

Vodola knew there was one piece of unfinished Maulseed business here. The secret message to Rilander Castanel had been in Maulseed foxscript. And since it was highly unlikely that Rilander himself knew that arcane script, there must be a Maulseed fox somewhere in Canto Attia. Probably a vixen, one of Jerreaun's pet students that she'd dispatched here to keep the secret lines of communication open. Chances were that the vixen in question would be lying low in Rilander's dwelling, but she and Rilander would have eyes and ears out here in the main town. Vodola, Kincy and Trisko could not be mistaken as anything but Maulseeders, in their incongruous green habits ... and that would attract just the kind of attention Vodola wanted.

She returned to the seedy tavern where the three of them were rooming. Barely had she finished filling them in on the results of her excursion to the inner palace than there came a heavy knock on their door. Kincy and Trisko moved wary paws to their weapons while Vodola went to answer it.

Two ferret guards stood in the corridor with pikes at the ready. Between them stood a Marlfox.

Vodola's breath caught in her throat; this was something she had not expected. She had never seen one of the legendary Marlfoxes before, but she recognized this one immediately for what it was. The dogfox was a hulking giant, nearly wolf-sized, and his court finery could not hide the fighter's muscles that bulged beneath the silky fabric. His eyes shone with a penetrating intelligence, and that gaze was now focused down upon her.

"Why have you not reported yet?" he inquired with cold nonchalance.

"What took you so long to find us?" Vodola countered. "We've been here for hours."

The Marlfox's expression remained calm as he grabbed her from under her jaw. His paw was nearly big enough to completely encircle her head. He lifted her up so that she was forced to stand on her pawtips if she didn't want to leave the floor altogether. Kincy and Trisko started to draw their weapons, but the Marlfox shot them a cautionary look.

"Ah-ah! Show me your blades, and I'll snap her neck!"

Vodola frantically waved for them to restrain themselves, and they reluctantly obeyed. The big fox smiled cruelly and returned his gaze to her.

"Ah, much better! Now, don't let this fancy court dress delude you: I am a Maulseed graduate too, trained under Lord Maulseed himself while the academy that bears his name was still being built, stone by stone. You will show me the same respect you would show your Headmistress, vixen. Address me once more with such insolence, and I will cut out your tongue myself. Am I clear?"

Vodola nodded as best she could in that iron grip, and he released her. Working her jaw to make sure he hadn't broken it, she gave a convincingly reverent half-bow. "My apologies, sir. I forgot my place."

"See that you suffer no more lapses of memory." The Marlfox glowered at the three of them. "Where is the rest of your force?"

"There are just the three of us," Vodola answered, deciding this was a good time to be truthful.

The Marlfox scowled. "Three? I send an emergency dispatch to Jerreaun that things are unraveling down here, requesting reinforcements, and she sends me three novices? This I do not believe!"

"She is worried that details of this plan might have leaked to our enemies," Vodola explained. "She wanted to keep full strength at Maulseed, in case they were attacked. She is a lot closer to Salamandastron than we are here."

"I see." The Marlfox mulled this over; the three friends could not tell whether he believed Vodola or not. "And how is your esteemed Headmistress taking these developments?"

"She is ... frustrated that things are not going exactly as planned."

The Marlfox gave a bark of laughter. "Yes, she would be, wouldn't she? Well, things have changed, but the situation may still be salvaged. Come with me. We will go to see Rilander Castanel. You can tell us both what you have to say."

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Vodola, Kincy and Trisko were conveyed to Rilander's private apartments in curtained litters. Nobeast in the inner or outer palace would see what creatures were being taken into the Marquis' quarters.

The three youngbeasts were dazzled by the opulence of the royal apartments. Not even Pyr's current rooms could match the architectural grandeur and lavish appointments of Rilander's dwelling.

The Maulseeders, with the Marlfox and a half dozen guards at their side, were shown into a back office where Rilander awaited them. The prim and proper fox Marquis stood to greet them, and tellingly offered them no seats when he finished shaking their paws. The guards were dismissed, leaving Vodola and her friends alone with Rilander and the Marlfox.

"So, how goes it at Maulseed?" he asked them pleasantly.

"As well as can be expected, considering the complications we've encountered," Vodola said.

"Aha. Ah, yes. Complications. And, just how much do you yourselves know of these matters?"

"Only what Headmistress Jerreaun saw fit to tell us, I imagine, and no more."

"And there are just the three of you?"

"Maulseed must remain strong. Which reminds me." Vodola slowly reached into her habit and produced the poisoner's pawbook. "I believe this was destined for you," she said, holding it out to the Marlfox.

The dogfox took it, examining the cover. "There's dried blood on it."

"The blood of that traitorous vixen, Vodola, who sought to ruin everything," said Vodola. "She told us she'd alerted Salamandastron. Who knows if we can believe her? But Jerreaun is taking no chances. That's why she sent only the three of us. No more could be spared. Maulseed's defenses must be at full strength in these dangerous and uncertain times."

"And just what, pray tell, am I supposed to do with the three of you?" Rilander asked, a distinctly unpleasant tone creeping into his voice.

The Marlfox had finished reading the secret message in the back of the book. "This confirms Jerreaun's cooperation," he told Rilander, passing the book to him.

"And what good is her cooperation if all she will send me in my time of need is three students?" Rilander exploded, hurling the book against the wall.

The Marlfox remained commanding and calm. "Once again you underestimate us, Lord. These beasts you see before you are far more than they appear. Do not let their youth fool you. I daresay they could probably wipe out a fair portion of your personal guard."

Rilander's eyebrows went up, and his temper seemed to calm somewhat. "Do you really think they're that good, Maxton?"

"Good enough for our purposes."

Rilander took a deep breath. Moments before he'd appeared a spoiled kit throwing a temper tantrum, but now the mantle of imperial authority settled back over him. "Ah, yes. Yes indeed. Our purposes ... " He chuckled dryly, then looked at the three youngbeasts. "Ah, those habits will have to go. But I think we can find you something more appropriate. Tell me, ah ... what was your name again?"

"Athi Retta," Vodola told him.

"Tell me, Athi ... how would you and your friends feel about attending a masked ball?"

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Vodola, Kincy and Trisko were allowed to return to their tavern for the remainder of the night, although under their habits they wore the finery that Rilander had pressed upon them. The following night, they were to be part of Rilander's entourage for the royal masque. And their assignment was to kill Triestival.

And Pyr.

They did not doubt for a moment that Rilander's spies would be watching them every moment from now until the ball. So they held their silence until they were safely back in their room. And even then, they spoke in hushed voices.

"We could have taken him out back there," Kincy complained. "Him and Maxton both - I don't care how strong that Marlfox is. They couldn't have stopped all three of us."

"We wouldn't have gotten out of there alive," said Vodola. "He had at least a score of guards in the hall outside his office. We're good, Kince ... but we're not that good."

"Mebbe it'd be worth our lives, to finish this up once an' fer all," mused Trisko.

"None of us are going to die if we don't have to," Vodola insisted. "We stick with the plan as we agreed. Rilander thinks we're going to be his assassins tomorrow night. He's depending on us for this last-ditch grab at power. When we turn against him in front of all the Teranights, it will knock his foundation completely out from under him. He'll be disgraced and ruined."

"Yeah, but ... are we gonna kill 'im?" Trisko asked.

"Only if we have to," said Vodola.

"Pity you couldn't get that book back," Kincy lamented. "That note would be pretty useful as evidence against him."

"I felt I had to show it to Maxton. If there was any doubt lingering in that Marlfox's mind, I had to use every means at my disposal to dispel it. It was a fair trade off, considering we're still alive."

Kincy gazed at Vodola. Her eyes had faded back to their normal green-gold shade during their voyage south, but the deep orange roots of her fur were only partially visible in certain light; she could still pass as a red-blonde vixen in most places. And she'd stayed in the habit of pinning her ears back so that the line of her head was altered. She still did not look fully like the Vodola he'd known for so many seasons.

She caught him staring at her across the table. "What is it?"

"It's just so good to see you again ... even if you don't look like you." Kincy climbed into his bunk, across the room from Vodola's. "Good night ... Athi!"


	46. Chapter 46

"Masks"

Ever since she'd changed her alias at Maulseed, Vodola felt that the spirit of Athi Retta was watching over her.

And not just Athi. Vodola was not superstitious, but she had to admit to herself that there were some things in this world that just could not be explained by logic or reason. Like the dream of Levet they'd all shared on the island. Or the way the name of Athi Retta had slipped from her lips without any forethought or warning. There had been times during her march to the coast with Kincy and Trisko, and later on the voyage south, that a presence had almost seemed to envelope her with a feeling of safety and protectiveness. In momentary flashes - usually when she was on the boundary between sleep and wakefulness, or when she'd been leaning on the ship's railing, staring out at sea in a daydream - Vodola could almost pick out individual identities lurking within that presence. Not with her sight, or her hearing, or taste or touch or smell. Just her ... awareness.

Vinklinar was there with Athi. So was Orlic, and Tundra, and even Levet and Ciarnait. All victims of the conspiracy between Jerreaun and Rilander. They were restless. They wanted justice before they could cross over to the Dark Forest.

Or so Vodola fancied, in her more impractical moments. The rest of the time she would push such thoughts to the back of her mind and focus on the matters at paw.

Like learning how to walk gracefully in boots. Vodola had always preferred to go about barepawed, for reasons of both stealth and surefootedness. But here in Canto Attia, only paupers went without shoes. It was very different from Maulseed, or even most of Mossflower. If she'd shown up at this ball barepawed, she would have been as conspicuously out of place as a timid fieldmouse dropped into the midst of a Maulseed battle drill.

The boots were also necessary to boost her height - an essential part in her masquerade as a dogfox, along with the padding in her shoulders. She felt she could cross the floor smoothly without making a total clod of herself, but dancing was more of a challenge than she was ready for - as Pyr's own footpaws had found out.

The majesty of this ballroom and the corridors and chambers around it surpassed anything Vodola had seen so far in Canto Attia; even Rilander's rooms paled in comparison. Multiple chandeliers hung from the arched marble ceilings (how on earth did they keep all those candles lit?) while wide sweeping staircases ascended to splendid balconies and galleries as broad as city streets. Vivid lifelike murals decorated the walls, and where the floor wasn't covered with carpeting of dreamlike softness it was polished to a smoothness that almost made Vodola want to shed her boots so she could feel the perfect surface with her bare paws. Maybe when this was all over, and she could prance about this place like a heathen without any royalty watching ...

She'd always thought Maulseed had a simple grandeur of its own, a spare immensity that perfectly reflected the functionality of the place. Castle Floret had been much more ornate, but even that was a mild affluence compared to the inner Attiana. Here was wealth and luxury beyond anything a beast could possibly need. It was easy to see why so many of the Teranight clan had fallen to decadent ways; those who enjoyed this standard of living would be spoiled and corrupted by it, while those who were excluded would clamor for it with a passion that would inspire treachery and murder. It was almost enough to make Vodola want to return with all speed to the simple, straightforward existence of Maulseed. Almost, but not quite ...

Vodola knew fighting, and she'd been trained in the ways of intrigue to some small degree. But this court was an alien world to her. She'd been taught a little about Canto Attia in her classes, but it had always seemed like some faraway foreign land. In many ways, she was as ill-equipped for this environment as Pyr would have been at Maulseed. There were too many rules here, all of them unwritten. She could appreciate the social skill that would allow entire conversations to take place with the arch of an eyebrow, the flick of a paw, the swish of a tail to the left or to the right, or for dynasty-shaking messages to be sent by the choice of clothing color or the music your court musicians played. Yes, she could appreciate it ... but it was unnecessary. These creatures had become so immersed in the trivial minutiae of their affected existence that they were incapable of living anything like real lives.

She hoped Pyr would never become like that. Pyr deserved better.

Half an hour had passed since her encounter with Pyr, and still Vodola had been unable to locate Rilander anywhere. She'd crisscrossed paths with Kincy and Trisko - both playing the part of serving beasts - several times, and they had had no luck in this regard either. The only thing they had established with fair certainty was that the large fox in the purple cape and the black feather mask, whom Pyr had assumed was Triesteval, was actually Maxton. His disguise was perfect; none of the partygoers likely suspected that there was a Marlfox in their midst.

Vodola had danced briefly with Larei, who had warned her about the ability of many in this court to read lips. Vodola silently cursed Rilander for supplying her with a half-mask that left the lower part of her face exposed. Some of the others wore full-face masks that hid their mouths, no doubt mindful of this detail.

She sauntered over to the bandstand, where Cayenne and the others of her troupe were setting up for some entertainment or other. "I trust you will keep us well amused this evening, my dear castaway?" Vodola casually inquired as she leaned on the platform railing. There! If anybeast was reading her lips, let them try to make sense of that remark.

Cayenne's eyes lit up when she realized whom it was addressing her. "Why, yes, my kind sir! And it is so good to see you again! You are dressed so perfectly for the occasion, I would hardly know you!"

Vodola could tell Cayenne was restraining herself from jumping down and hugging her, but the otter knew such behavior would spoil everything. She was obeying Pyr's rules as best she could. If all this affected formality was difficult for Vodola, it must have been near-torture for the buoyant Cayenne. The youthful actor looked uncomfortable in her boots, too. Otters were one species that definitely was not meant to wear boots.

Vodola covered her mouth with her paw as if to cough, but instead said, "I am planning to stage a fake poisoning of Larei, who is playing Pyr." Removing her paw, she continued, "Would it be better to do so now, or wait until after your entertainment?"

"Oh, after," Cayenne grinned. "We have something special in mind. I don't think you're gonna want to miss it!"


	47. Chapter 47

"The Play's the Thing"

When the final chandelier disappeared into the ceiling, Vodola tensed herself, convinced that this was some treachery of Rilander's. She quickly saw that she was mistaken.

A heartbeat after the ballroom was plunged into darkness, a giant spotlight was ignited on the balcony opposite the players' stage. It was essentially a huge oil lantern, backed by a massive curved mirror that focused the light and threw it out into a long beam. Vodola had never seen or heard of such a device before, but it made sense that if anyplace would have one, it would be Canto Attia.

The beam was aimed at the stage, and Cayenne stepped into the circle of light. As the only thing visible in the room, she commanded the total attention of the partygoers.

"My dear and good friends," she intoned dramatically, "please be so kind as to lend me the full use of your eyes and ears, for we are now about to present a piece of the utmost importance. It is based on a true story, and concerns everybeast in this room, and in all of Canto Attia."

While Cayenne was speaking, other members of the troupe came out and began lighting small footlamps around the edge of the stage, and soon the entire platform was bathed in a warm glow.

"This is the tale of the wicked Marquis Calendar Rastenall, who made a pact with Verminschool of the north to help him usurp the throne of the great and splendid empire of Tanto Cattia. Listen well, my friends, for there is a dire lesson to be learned here."

Others joined her on the stage now, including Ayt'n wearing a foxhead that, despite its simplicity, somehow managed to capture some of the essence of Rilander himself. As Vodola watched in growing amazement, she saw the entire conspiracy between Maulseed and Rilander played out before her. The shipwreck, the secret message hidden in the book, the efforts of Vodola, Pyr and Cayenne to raise the alarm - it was all there. Cayenne essentially played herself, while others stood in for Levet, Ciarnait, Athi, Orlic, Tundra and Vinklinar. The parts of Pyr and herself were played by actual foxes, which drove home the authenticity of the drama. Each of the castaway characters was given just enough stage time for the audience to get to know them, before being removed by their various manners of death. The indignation of the audience was growing palpable by the time Vink met his heroic end; even the jaded Canto Attians were incensed that so many good creatures were losing their lives as a result of Calendar Rastenall's devious plans.

The escape from the island was glossed over in favor of the intrigue at Maulseed, Castle Floret and Canto Attia. The details about Jerreaun's death were all wrong, but of course Vodola had not had a chance to relate that tale to Cayenne. Surprisingly, the play ended with the poisoning of a certain "Pyra Fairlight," one of the surviving castaways, right in the midst of a masked ball such as this. How Cayenne was able to include this detail Vodola couldn't imagine; the scene must have literally been written in at the last minute.

The very last scene found Calendar Rastenall (Ayt'n in his Rilander foxhead) standing at the edge of the stage, gloating over his latest triumph. "Mwahaha!" he guffawed as he deviously twirled the fake whiskers of his fox mask. "I have poisoned that meddlesome vixen Pyra Fairlight, and she will trouble me no more! All that remains now is - "

The audience never got to find out what remained of Calendar's plans, for at that moment a throwing blade came whizzing above the ears of the costumed crowd and thudded into Ayt'n's chest. The player stood dumbly for several moments, his expression hidden beneath his full-headed fox mask. Then, clutching at the dagger embedded in his ribs, he toppled from the stage and crashed into a servantmole standing by with a tray of crystal glasses.

Cayenne's paws flew to her face as she knelt at the side of the stage. "Nooooo!" she wailed.

It was then that the audience caught on that the thrown knife was not a part of the act ... and all hell broke loose.


	48. Chapter 48

"Final Partings"

(_Author's Note: In Pyr's final post, Ayt'n died, Maxton escaped - but not before murdering Emperor Triestival - and Rilander Castenal was tried for his crimes and exiled in disgrace. Now, on with the story ..._ )

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"Hey, I thought you were afraid of heights?" Cayenne said to Vodola.

"I'm fine, as long as I stare straight out to sea and don't look down," the vixen answered.

Cayenne, Pyr and Vodola stood crowded together in the crow's nest of the Celestial Ladder, the merchant ship taking them back north. It was a magnificent, cloudless day, the blue sky reaching away to infinity while the calm seas below shimmered and sparkled like one enormous aquamarine jewel. The wind up here atop the main mast was enough to put a constant roar in their ears and make Vodola's habit whip around in the steady breeze.

"Beside, what good is a fear if you can't force yourself to face it once in awhile?" Vodola laughed. "And after all we've been through, a few stories off the deck of a ship is child's play."

"It is beautiful up here," Pyr said, "if a bit windy and loud. At least we're heading back north in style. The Celestial Ladder is one of the smartest-looking vessels I've ever laid eyes on."

That much was true. The craft which carried the three companions was built entirely of white birchwood, and gleamed from stem to stern like a giant pearl. The white ship with its white sails presented a sight unlike any other on the high seas.

"Not as much style and elegance as you had back in Canto Attia," said Vodola, gazing at her fellow vixen. "I can't believe you could have been empress!"

"And you could have been the emperor's wife," Pyr replied. "I think it must have fair broken poor Kiel's heart when you turned down his proposal."

"It wasn't easy to do. I do have feelings for your brother, you know. Strong feelings. If he were going to live in someplace like Southsward or Mossflower, I think I would gladly have accepted his betrothal. But to be wife of the emperor of Canto Attia ... I would surely have been smothered by the formality and driven mad!"

"As the emperor's wife, you would have had the power to behave any way you wanted," Pyr pointed out. "That place could use a little shaking up, and you would have been just the one to do it!"

"Perhaps," Vodola shrugged. "But something tells me that the more power I attained for myself there, the more I would have become a prisoner to that power. I am not meant for court intrigue and backroom palace maneuvers, Pyr. As I told a certain ferret at Maulseed, I would rather face my enemy than stab him in the back."

"This conversation is so cheery," Cayenne said. "But I agree with Vodola. As much as I enjoyed performing for royalty, one visit to Canto Attia in my lifetime will be quite enough, thank you!"

Vodola glanced at the otter. "Well, you've got good reason to want to be away from there as well. Memories to put behind you, with Ayt'n and all ... "

Cayenne gazed longingly out to sea. "I don't know if I'll ever get married myself. But Ayt'n was the kind of malebeast who makes a gal contemplate such things. I only knew him for such a short time, but we became very good friends. And then to lose him like that ... " She reached up to flick away a tear, and Vodola and Pyr smacked knuckles in their haste to both place a consoling paw around their otter comrade.

They rode the waves in silence for awhile after that, enjoying the splendid day from their lofty perch. It was Pyr who eventually broke the spell.

"Vodola, do you think Maxton will cause my brother any trouble?"

"I don't think so. That Marlfox might make an excellent general, but he's not the kind of beast to openly seek power for himself. Not the kind of power that comes with the throne, at any rate. He needs somebeast like Rilander to support him. Now that Rilander's been discredited and exiled, Maxton will look elsewhere for fulfillment of his Maulseed training. I'd say Maxton's as likely to go after Rilander for letting him down as he is to trouble Kiel. Remember, Maxton was in Canto Attia as part of Jerreaun's conspiracy. There's nothing there for him anymore, now that the conspirators have all been slain or unmasked."

"What about us?" Cayenne asked. "We're the ones responsible for his undoing, after all. Might he not come hunting after us?"

"Anything's possible," Vodola conceded. "Maxton wasn't exactly going by Maulseed rules, so I can't predict precisely what he might have in mind. But he's as much to blame for his undoing as anybeast. If he'd kept his head and not murdered Ayt'n during the play, he and Rilander might have been able to worm their way out of that predicament ... which would have put the ball right back in our court. And then we would have had to find some other way to put an end to their schemes."

"Like killing them," Cayenne supposed. "Would you have done that, Vodola?"

"If it had come right down to it ... yes," Vodola nodded. "Without a second thought. After all the lives he destroyed, I would have put a blade in Rilander's heart right in the middle of the ballroom floor, if that's what it had taken. But then I fear Maxton's blade would have found me instead of Ayt'n, and nothing that Kincy or Trisko could have done would have saved me."

Pyr looked down at the gently rolling deck below, to where the green-robed rat and weasel were lounging against the starboard railing. "Have you told them yet that you don't plan to return with them to Maulseed?"

"I haven't figured out how yet," Vodola admitted. "That's going to be one of the toughest things about this whole business ... harder, in its own way, than leaving Kiel behind in Canto Attia. Especially as far as Kincy's concerned. He and I have some special memories between us. For all that I've come to see that the Maulseed way is not for me, it was my home for most of my life, and I do have friends there. Turning my back on Maulseed will almost be like abandoning my family. I don't know if I will be able to make them understand my reasons."

Cayenne raised an eyebrow at her vixen friend. "You and Kincy? And I thought it was wild when you were making eyes at Vinklinar!"

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Vodola smiled coyly. "Rats have a certain style all their own. Good ones like Kince, at any rate. At least when you go outside your own species, there's no danger of ending up with a squalling brat that you hadn't counted on."

"I'll have to remember that," Pyr grinned. "Although I think a squirrel would be more my speed. Just don't stick me with a hedgehog!"

"You'd be stuck all right!" Cayenne laughed. "My oh my, Vodola ... I said it before, and I'll say it again: that must be some school you went to!"

00000000000

The moment of truth came three days later. The Celestial Ladder had left them off at the same small port where Vodola had unshipped from the Marillion for her first trip to Maulseed. Now that magnificent white ship was sailing out of view toward the northern horizon, and the five travelers found themselves facing divergent paths - one that ran straight east toward Maulseed, and another that led south toward the heart of Mossflower ... and Redwall.

Knowing that their friend would want to make her farewells to her old classmates in private, Pyr and Cayenne jogged ahead down the southern path, then waited there just out of earshot.

Trisko regarded the pair. "Guess yer buddies ain't comin' with us to Maulseed, huh?"

"No," Vodola said slowly, hoisting her backpack. "And ... neither am I."

Kincy and Trisko stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. "What?" the young rat asked, incredulous.

"I can't," Vodola explained. "Not after everything that's happened."

"But ... but, that doesn't matter now," Kincy stammered. "Jerreaun's dead, and you saved Maulseed. You're a hero there! You could be Headmistress if you wanted!"

"Headmistress of what?" Vodola retorted. "All the foxes there are either dead, imprisoned, or ran away to escape Mogar's wrath. But it still wouldn't work, Kince. All my life I've been taught to view woodlanders as my enemy, trained to fight a war with them. Well, the war nearly came, and it could have been the ruin of us all. But even more than that, I can't see them as enemies anymore. I got to know woodlanders in my travels. I became good friends with some of them. I would never be able to just cast aside everything that's happened to me this past season. I won't fight them, now that I have seen a better way."

"What other way?" Kincy asked acerbically. "There's always been strife between us and the woodlanders ... and we've always come out on the losing side. Maulseed is our one hope of turning that around. And we need you now more than ever."

"You don't need me," Vodola said. "You need to open your eyes. I have met an otter who has risked her life for my own. I have met a weasel who was taken in by Redwall as a child and given shelter and sanctuary there. And I have met a fellow vixen who was allowed into Redwall to study there. They are only our enemies if we make them such. I have seen what it is like at Maulseed. Now I am going to see what it is like at Redwall. If I can still view them as enemies after dwelling amongst them for a season or two, then I will return to Maulseed and resume my work there. But there is a greater chance that I will return to Maulseed as an emissary of peace, so that the war for which I was being prepared all my life may never come to pass. Perhaps Redwall and Maulseed will come to see themselves as spiritual brothers, twin havens of strength and safety for our respective kinds ... fortresses that can coexist without becoming adversaries."

"You've been away from us too long," Kincy scowled.

"Mebbe she has," said Trisko, "but I see wot she's sayin', Mouse. Can't go fightin' wars 'gainst folk you call friends. That ain't sumthin' you c'n ask anybeast t' do." The weasel stuck out his paw. "So long, Vodie. I'm a-gonna miss you."

She knocked aside Trisko's outheld paw and embraced him warmly. "Goodbye, you big uglyhead! I'm gonna miss you too!"

Then she turned to Kincy, whose expression was still dour. "Let's not part like this, Kince. You're just about my best friend at Maulseed. I do care about you, you know."

"If you really cared about me," the rat said petulantly, "then you wouldn't be leaving me."

"In case you'd forgotten, I turned down the chance to be an emperor's wife. Part of the reason was you, Kince. If I'd married Kiel and stayed in Canto Attia, I probably never would have seen you again. This way ... well, let's just say we're still in the same neck of the woods. Now give me a hug, or I'll swat you!"

Kincy sighed, and took Vodola in an embrace. Their clinch held for twice as long as the one between Vodola and Trisko, and the weasel finally turned away, blushing slightly. When rat and vixen at last parted, Vodola stood back and addressed them both; all three had watery eyes.

"Thank you both for your help," she told them. "A lot of creatures owe you big time for helping to bring Rilander down. I couldn't have done it without you. And I will see you again someday. You can count on it."

"I will, Princess," Kincy said sadly. "I just hope it's not during a war, and you're on the other side."

"Then let's make sure that war never happens. It's in our paws now."

Vodola turned away from her two oldest friends and strode down the southern path to rejoin her two newest ones. "How'd that go?" Pyr inquired.

"About what I expected," Vodola said, glancing over her shoulder and giving one final wave to Kincy and Trisko, who had already started down the road toward Maulseed. Pyr and Cayenne joined in the wave goodbye; they too had grown fond of Vodola's schoolmates.

"Any regrets, Vodie?" Cayenne asked, using the nickname she'd picked up from Kincy and Trisko.

"There are always regrets at crossroads such as this," Vodola said purposefully. "But that road led back to my past. I'm headed toward my future now. And toward whatever that brings me - good or bad. It's my decision. And that decision is, on to Redwall!"


	49. Chapter 49

(_Author's Note: When ROC:S was underway in 2001, the last segment and this Epilogue were both slightly delayed due to the events of September 11th, which took place that week. I put off posting the previous section for a day, feeling that it would be improper to participate in such frivolity on a day when the U.S. had suffered such a calamitous attack, and incorporated some of what I was feeling at the time into the Epilogue below; astute readers may catch that "tristesse" is French for "sadness," which was an emotion gripping most of us that dark week, along with shock and anger and disbelief. While it was an honor to have won the contest, I felt that bringing the tale to a worthy conclusion at such a time was almost something of a sacred trust, and I hope I fulfilled my duty in this regard. Only you, my readers, can decide how successful I was. It's been a long and epic journey, with nearly a novel's worth of writing just for my Vodola parts in the game, so as always I must conclude by saying, thanks for reading!_)

00000000000

"Epilogue: A New Beginning"

I. ARRIVAL

Abbess Tristesse was a rather peculiar mouse.

All during her childhood, and later as a novice, Tristesse was remarked upon by her fellow Redwallers as a somewhat melancholy soul, with always a trace of wistfulness in her face even when she was smiling or laughing. It was as if she'd been born with a mournfulness in her, a sadness that was with her at all times.

But her wisdom was never questioned, nor was her kindness, compassion, and total dedication to Redwall. And so, when the time came for old Abbot Beridon to name his successor, it was the melancholy Sister Tristesse who became Abbess Tristesse.

Summer was nearly at an end, the shorter days and cooler, crisper nights heralding the approach of autumn. Pears, plums, apples, peaches and damsons hung heavy on the orchard branches. As yet the forest and plains remained green, but the change to red and orange and gold would begin before too many more days passed.

Abbess Tristesse was strolling the north Abbey grounds when the three travelers arrived. She saw old Rogg the otter come bounding down from the west walltop where he'd been standing lookout, taking two steps at a time, and race across to open the main gate. Curiosity piqued, Tristesse crossed the lawns to investigate the newcomers for herself.

She was met by an old familiar face, a new and friendly face, and a third face which was that of a stranger. This third figure presented a particularly curious appearance, being a red vixen wearing what looked for all the world like a green Redwall novice's habit. Tristesse might have been flabbergasted, but for the message which had been delivered to the Abbey earlier that season.

"Hello, Pyr," the old mouse smiled, shaking the first vixen's paw. "It is good to see you again. I hear you have been up to some interesting things since we last saw you here."

"One could say that," Pyr grinned in returned, "but it has all turned out well. I am eager to tell Abbot Beridon all about it."

Tristesse let her smile grow more wistful than usual. "I regret that Abbot Beridon passed away two seasons ago. I have been Abbess since last winter."

"Oh, no," Pyr moaned. "Not Abbot Beridon!"

"No need to be sad," Tristesse said lightly. "He lived out his full measure of seasons, and moved on to the next world as peacefully as anybeast could wish. Besides, the two of you were never exactly cozy, as I remember. He never could warm up to the idea of extending Redwall's hospitality to a fox."

"You were always one of the Abbeydwellers who treated me best. I can't believe the little old seamstress I knew back then is now Redwall's Abbess! I'm very proud of you, Tristesse."

"Thank you. And are these the friends of yours that we've heard about?"

"Yes. Please allow me to introduce Cayenne, otter player par excellence. And this is Vodola, a vixen with a very interesting background."

"Wot's she doin' wearin' one o' our habits?" Rogg asked, none too tactfully.

"This is what all the students at my school wear, good sir otter," Vodola answered respectfully.

"Ah, yes," Tristesse nodded, "that school of yours. I have about a thousand and one questions to ask you about that." She took Pyr by the arm and waved all three of them toward the main Abbey building, which towered red and majestic in the late summer sun above the vivid green of the lawns and orchard and the shimmering silver-blue of the pond. "But first, you must be tired and hungry from your journey here. Come and rest your paws inside, and we'll see if we can find something to put in your bellies. If memory serves me correctly, Pyr, gooseberry pie was always one of your favorites, and I believe Friar Moberly has one freshly baked in the kitchens even as we speak."

"Mmm, gooseberry pie!" Cayenne licked her lips as she and Vodola fell into step behind Pyr and the Abbess. "I think I'm going to like it here!"

II. AWARENESS

That evening, after the three visitors had been shown the best of the hospitality that Redwall had to offer, they met with Redwall's three senior mice in the privacy of the gatehouse cottage by the main gate. Abbess Tristesse was joined by Brother Travis, the Abbey recorder, and Alvernon, the current warrior Champion of Redwall. There, over the course of several hours, they took turns unreeling the entire tale of their shipwreck and the conspiracy between Maulseed and Rilander Castanel.

When at last the tale had been told in full, Brother Travis sat shaking his paw, numb from the effort of putting it all down on paper. "This is almost too incredible for words."

"Yes," Tristesse nodded. "So many creatures dead ... and yet, if we are to believe what we have just heard, a far greater disaster has been narrowly averted. And we have these three brave creatures to thank for that. We could be at war now, if not for them."

"Yes, but what is to be done about this vermin academy?" Travis worried with furrowed brow. "It cannot be allowed to stand. It is a threat to all goodbeasts everywhere."

"That was the kind of attitude I had hoped not to find here," Vodola said sadly. "You must understand, Maulseed is a school, not some warlord's stronghold. It would never have been involved in any of this, were it not for Jerreaun and Rilander's evil schemes. But it is more than capable of defending itself if attacked. There is a capability there that you do not want to awaken, Abbess. Believe me, Maulseed must be left alone."

"Where is it?" Travis pressed, clearly dissatisfied with Vodola's statement. "How far from Redwall? In which direction?"

"I am sworn not to reveal that," Vodola replied. "I have just risked my life, multiple times, to prevent a war. Maulseed's exact location is a closely guarded secret, and I will not divulge that information. If you are determined to find it, you will have to do so without my help."

Travis turned to Alvernon for support. The warrior mouse sat with the sword of Martin strapped across his back, silently digesting all that he had heard. "Alvernon, as Redwall's Champion, you must surely agree with me that this nest of vipers must be rooted out and destroyed!"

"Vipers?" Alvernon questioned the recorder mouse. "Such as this vixen who sits before us now?"

Travis sputtered and then fell into an embarrassed silence, gaze in his lap.

Alvernon looked to Vodola. "Young miss, do you genuinely believe that the students and teachers at your school are so formidable that they could inflict great damage upon us if we were to go to war?"

"I have no doubt of it," Vodola answered earnestly.

"But, you do not think they will trouble us if we leave them alone?"

"Truly, sir, I do not."

"Then that is good enough for me," the warrior mouse declared. "This vixen has, by confirmed accounts, gone to great lengths to preserve the peace of Mossflower. And she has been wholly forthcoming about this school which she has called home until now. I trust her, and would follow her counsel. We are aware of this threat now, and can guard against it. If they think to start a war with us, we will finish it. But we will not start that war ourselves."

"Thank you, sir," Vodola said to Alvernon. "That was the kind of wisdom I had hoped to find at Redwall."

Tristesse shook her head. "I never would have imagined such a place might exist. Vermin, being trained in the Redwall way ... even wearing novice's habits! It is an idea that will take some getting used to. But we will honor your wishes and your counsel, good Vodola. We will strengthen our defenses in case we are attacked, increase our vigilance over this region of Mossflower, but we will not strike first. No need stirring up a hornets' nest if we don't have to. We know of Maulseed's existence, and so does Lord Ulloth of Salamandastron. That shall have to suffice for now." She gazed at the low fire which crackled comfortingly in the gatehouse hearth, casting a homey glow over the study. "So, will the three of you be staying with us for awhile?"

"By your grace, for a good while, if you'll have us," Pyr said.

The Abbess gazed at her old vixen friend. "Oh? Thinking of becoming permanent residents at our Abbey?"

"Perhaps. It depends what the seasons ahead hold for us."

"Of course. Pyr, you've been a resident here before, so you know what that means. Cayenne, you being an otter, I very much doubt you will have any problem at all fitting in here. Vodola, you have studied Redwall at your own school, so you should be familiar with most of our ways. We have very few rules here, and as long as you observe them, the three of you are more than welcome to dwell at Redwall for as long as you like."

Pyr and Vodola smiled and nodded their appreciation, but Cayenne jumped up out of her seat and wrapped the Abbess in an exuberant embrace. "Thank you, Marm! You've just made this otter one happy gal! I feel like I've finally come home!"

The two vixens traded amused glances. "Yes, it does rather feel like that, doesn't it?" Pyr said to Vodola.

III. ACCEPTANCE

On their second afternoon at Redwall, the three former castaways found themselves standing atop the west Abbey wall over the main gate, gazing out at the Western Plains.

"This sure beats that crowded crow's nest aboard the Celestial Ladder, doesn't it?" commented Pyr. "The view's just as splendid, and no chance of getting seasick!"

"Oh, I dunno," Cayenne shrugged. "As an otter, I might take the sea view over this one. Never realized how much I enjoyed ocean voyages until I got caught up in this whole adventure ... as long as they don't end up with me getting shipwrecked on a dangerous desert island! It's like something inside me's been awakened. I've got a feeling I'll be returning to the sea someday ... "

"Even if it means leaving Redwall?" asked Vodola.

"Redwall's a home I could always come home to," said the young otter. "Maybe you appreciate your home more after you've been away from it for awhile."

"And what about you, Vodola?" Pyr asked her fellow vixen. "Now that you've spent a full day here, what do you think of Redwall?"

"I think ... " Vodola started, then began again. "I think the creatures here are still trying to figure out what to make of me. It's going to take us both awhile to figure each other out. In some ways, this Abbey is just the way I imagined it from my lessons at Maulseed. And in other ways, it is very different. I would like to stay, but it's too early to tell whether I have a place here."

Pyr laughed. "That's exactly how I felt when I came to study here in my youth. The first few days might be a little awkward, and there are some beasts who will always regard you with suspicion no matter what you do. Don't worry about them. Just be yourself, and in time you'll win over those who matter. You're a goodbeast too, Vodola, and anybeast who spends enough time with you will come to see that."

"Think it's helping that the Abbess and Alvernon are treating us all like guests of honor," Cayenne said. "Sitting us by their side at the head of the table during breakfast and lunch, encouraging all the other Abbey leaders to accept us ... "

"Yes, I've always been fond of Tristesse," agreed Pyr. "Abbot Beridon couldn't have chosen a better mouse to succeed him. And Alvernon has always been a steady and even-pawed fellow. With those two as our advocates, there's no doubt that Redwall will accept us. If we decide to stay here."

"Only time will tell," Vodola sighed, staring out toward the sunny golden plains. "But I feel I've already made coming here worthwhile. Last night, as we were telling our tale, Brother Travis was writing it all down into the Abbey records. All the friends we've lost - Athi, Orlic, Tundra, Vinklinar, Levet and even Ciarnait, not to mention Ayt'n - will now be a part of these folks' history from now on. Just as those names were recorded in the annals of Castle Floret and Canto Attia, so they will be preserved here too. I may decide to leave Redwall, but they will dwell here forever. And their sacrifice will be remembered, long after we are gone."

"As it should be," echoed Pyr.

Cayenne nodded. "What you two said."

And so the three most recent additions to the Redwall community turned and headed back down the wallsteps to rejoin the warm embrace and friendly companionship of their new family. For now, the future would have to take care of itself.


	50. Chapter 50

Vodola's End

(_Author's Note: You thought it was over, didn't you? Wellll ... NO! As I hinted earlier, I did indeed write a death scene for Vodola - in Week Five, to be precise, when Vodie was leading Tundra for elimination right up to the last minute and it looked as if our favorite vixen was toast - and I think you'll agree that it's a doozy. A death scene so fantastic that it actually plays out over three distinct scenes in what would have been two separate posts._

_Since I never actually had to use this in the game itself, I never bothered writing the lead-in, but presumably Vodola was snatched off the plateau where the castaways were staying at that point in the story and borne away to the secret lair of the basilisks. You'll also notice that no mention is made of the conspiracy between Maulseed and Canto Attia, since that subplot had not yet been introduced into the story by me or Pyr. And now, speaking of toast ..._ )

BRIDE OF THE RIVER OF FIRE

Vodola awoke to find her forepaws tied behind a post at her back, a small army of the sleek lizards encircling her on three side. All the reptiles gazed at her expectantly.

Across the clearing from her stood one of the rat savages, similarly bound to a stake. The look of terror on his face was excruciating, even though he appeared to be unharmed.

Where was she? This was no place on the island that she recognized. The rock and soil around her were black and devoid of vegetation, and everybeast stood in shadows. The lack of sun inspired the vixen to glance up. The vast bulk of the volcanic mountain loomed over them all, blocking out the late afternoon sunlight. They were right at the foot of the volcano, perhaps even within a gully that penetrated somewhat into its interior. This must be where these lizards dwelt ... which would explain why their lair had never been discovered by the castaways, who had made a point of keeping a respectful distance between themselves and the volcano.

It was ferociously hot here, hot like an oven. Vodola felt she might faint if her bonds around the post weren't holding her upright. The fur of the rat across from her was matted and drenched with sweat, and Vodola knew she must present a similar sight. She still wore her tattered habit, which didn't help the situation any. Obviously the cold-blooded reptiles would enjoy this heat, but it was punishing for furred creatures.

Enough light filtered down onto this ledge for Vodola to see fairly well. There was a drop in front of her - a place where the wide rock shelf simply ended, and beyond lay ... what? A dark black wall rose again a stone's throw beyond the edge, but what lay between could not be seen from this vantage. Her fear of heights began to play at the fringes of her mind, but she pushed those qualms back down as best she could. Still, a voice seemed to taunt her inner ear: What if that's a chasm that disappears into the depths of the earth, and you could fall, and fall, and fall ...

Vodola realized that all the lizards were swaying together, almost like they were dancing in place. There was no sound or music, no humming or singing or pounding of drums - just the eerily silent swaying back and forth. This was a ritual of some kind, and Vodola guessed that she and the rat were the guests of honor. Or the guests of horror, depending on what these lizards had in mind. She glanced again at her fellow captive; the rat seemed on the verge of literally dying of fright. Did he genuinely know what the reptiles intended? It was too bad the rats of this island didn't speak any real language. Then again, did Vodola really want to know what lay in store for her?

She glanced down, kicking the bottom of her robes away from her legs. Both her shortswords were gone. She felt naked and vulnerable without them. Not that she would be able to do much with her paws tied behind her back, but she supposed the lizards meant to untie her sooner or later, and when they did, she would have liked to have had at least a fighting chance. Of course, they'd paralyzed her once before to bring her here, and they could always do so again. But she suspected they wanted her alive for this ceremony, whatever it was, otherwise they wouldn't have waited for her to regain consciousness.

The lizards abruptly ceased their swaying and swarmed forward to surround the rat. One of the reptiles - it may have been their high priest, but since none wore clothes or markings of any kind, it was impossible to be sure - deftly severed the rodent's bonds with a crude black stone knife. The rat had no chance to run before the lizards grabbed him bodily, lifted him from the ground and bore him over their heads to the edge of the natural platform. There they paused for all of five heartbeats, letting the doomed rodent get a good look at what lay below. The rat soiled himself, releasing bowels and bladder simultaneously. Then he was cast over the ledge toward whatever lay below.

The anguish of his horrified scream was almost enough to make Vodola faint.

The lizards turned to her. Within moments they were surrounding her on all sides, their long, sharp, curving claws grabbing at her even before her ropes were cut. They knew she would be more of a challenge to handle than the terrified rat, and were taking no chances.

The moment her bonds were loosed Vodola sought to batter and club her way free of them. To her surprise, two fell under her bare-pawed assault almost immediately. These lizards were not so strong or fearsome, individually.

But dozens pressed in on her from every direction, leaving her no room to execute the proper defensive punches, chops and kicks that she'd learned at Maulseed Academy. She was simply overwhelmed, multiple claws grabbing onto each of her arms and legs and refusing to let go. As with the rat before her, Vodola was hoisted over their heads and carried to the lip of the ledge.

Vodola could not help but look down. The rat's scream had cut off abruptly, so she knew it was not a very long drop to whatever peril lay below. But no fancied horror of her feverish imagination could have matched what her eyes beheld now.

A slow-winding river of molten liquid rock ran orange beneath them, a diverted flow of lava from the volcano that briefly ran above ground here before disappearing below the island again a short way to her left.

Vodola frantically clawed at the talons gripping her, trying any way she could to grab onto her captors so that they would be unable to hurl her to a fiery doom. A voice in her mind pounded against her skull: Not like this! This can't be happening! Not like this! Not like this!

But the lizards were too well practiced at this ritual, and knew how to elude desperate grasps from their sacrifices that might frustrate their efforts to feed their god of fire. In spite of her panicked grabs, Vodola found herself flung into the air over the chasm, the glowing liquid rock rising up to meet her.

She had not intended to scream; the agonized wail that forced its way between her lips was something that erupted from her of its own volition. It was every bit as bloodcurdling as the rat's cry had been.

The lava was so hot and liquefied that it actually splashed as she hit it. Her habit and fur burst into flame upon contact, but blazed for only a heartbeat or two before she sank into the lava, the molten rock engulfing her completely.

The pain was exquisite, excruciating beyond anything she had ever imagined. She was literally drowning and burning at the same time, her eyes instantly burned out of their sockets as the lava poured into her ears, nose and mouth. Every square inch of her body was being seared by temperatures seldom seen anywhere on the face of the earth.

And there, balanced on the knife edge of this indescribable agony, a war raged in Vodola's soul. She wanted to die, to pass out, for the pain to simply stop. But for that to happen, she must die, and there was still a part of her mind that railed against this fate and refused to accept that this was her end. Her stubborn will to live, and all her seasons of training at Maulseed, now became her greatest enemy as she sought for a way out of this predicament. There must be a way out. There must be ...

The pain went on, and on, long after any normal beast would have succumbed to this torture and lost consciousness. Her now-furless skin blackened to charcoal, and her inner organs began to burst as their water turned to steam, and her brain boiled in her skull. She could not tell when she actually did die, so focused was she on her spirit-destroying agony.

Even death brought her no release, as she carried her torment with her into the next world ...

00000000000

Far away, across the sea near the northwest fringes of Mossflower, the young male students at Maulseed Academy were settled in for the night in their dormitory.

Kincy the rat sat up in his bed with a strangled cry.

His weasel friend Trisko rolled over in the adjacent bed and stared through the darkness at the rodent. "Hey, wot is it, Mouse? Bad dream or sumthin'?"

"It's ... it's Vodola," the rat sobbed, tears in his eyes. "Something terrible has happened to her."

"Huh?" Trisko levered himself up onto one elbow. "Whaddya mean?"

"She's dead, Trisk! Vodola's been killed!"

"What? How could you know that?"

"I ... I felt it. She cried out to me. She was in so much pain ... it was horrible!"

Trisko climbed out of bed to comfort his distraught friend. "Hey, c'mon now, t'was only dream. Naught else it could've been. You know our squirrel princess, she's a tough 'un, a real survivor. She's alive an' well wherever she is, you c'n be sure o' that. An' she'll come marchin' back to us sometime this season or next, jus' like she said she was gonna."

Kincy settled back onto his pillow. "It was no dream, Otter. A vision, p'raps, but a vision of something that really happened. Vodola's dead. Our Vodola is dead."

The certainty in the rat's voice sent a chill down Trisko's spine and made the weasel's fur stand on end. "Well, ask Procter Erkan 'bout it in th' morn. That marten knows more about dreams an' such than anybeast at Maulseed. He'll tell you whether there's anything to it."

Trisko returned to bed, and was soon fast asleep once more, snoring softly. But no sleep came to Kincy for the rest of that night, as the rat sat propped up on his pillow, tearfully mourning the vixen friend he knew he would never see again.

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

Levet, Ciarnait, Athi and Orlic stood outside the gates of Dark Forest, awaiting the arrival of more of their companions from the island. They knew that at least two more of their fellow castaways, and perhaps as many as four, would be joining them here before long. None could venture past the gate and into the next life until this trial was complete - this they had been told, although they could not have said by whom.

Now the four spirits were wracked by the torture of Vodola's torment.

"Hellsteeth, why ain't she a-comin'?" Levet demanded to know. "It's her time. Don't she realize that?"

"Too stubborn for her own good," Ciarnait surmised coolly, even though her distress was as great as any of the others'.

"She's not ready yet," Athi shrugged. "Her will to live was stronger than any of ours. She'll be here when she realizes there's nowhere else for her to go."

"But the pain!" Orlic cried. "Can you feel it? My passage was so peaceful - I accepted my fate without resisting. How can she withstand it?"

"Mebbe she's afraid," Levet suggested.

"Or angry," Ciarnait said. "Outrage at such a fortune might make a beast linger, just for spite if nothing else. I almost turned down that path myself. I see now how wise I was not to."

"Selfish vixen!" Athi growled. "Doesn't she realize what this is doing to the rest of us?"

"How could she?" Orlic protested. "She has never been to the gates like we have. She knows only the world of the living that we have left behind." Orlic turned to the east, where the misty boundaries between the two worlds met. Although the vixen no longer possessed real flesh and blood, astral tears dampened the ghost fur of her cheeks. "Let go, Vodola! I told you once that I would welcome you as a companion in wandering the lands. Come now and we'll wander the paths of Dark Forest and discover them together. Please, Vodola, let go!"

They could only wait, and hope Vodola's wayward spirit would heed their pleas for her release, and theirs. And so they waited, at the gates of Dark Forest.


End file.
